A Simple Man
by Mangerang
Summary: Group projects are a royal pain in the neck, any hard working person with lazy group members will vouch for that. Steve often takes charge and picks up the slack however he has a hard time getting along with one self-centered Tony Stark who has been knowingly placed in his group for every project of his senior year. It'll take more than patience for them not to kill each other
1. Chapter 1

**Zafona's Note:**

**Heya again guys :D It is I, Zafona. This is another co-authored fic with my main m'ang Touta Matsuda. We aren't going to mutilate in this fic, as far as I'm aware. There will be sexual themes ahead and mature content further down the road. You will be warned in the author's note unless I forget lol **

**This story also has some time skipping and I hope we make it clear enough but if not feel free to ask questions, either of us would be glad to answer them.**

* * *

"Good grades, straight laced, hard working, honest, and loyal to a fault." Steve read aloud, his cheeks flushing red as he tried to get through each little description of his classmates in last year's year book, he was stuck on his own. "Who wrote that? I didn't write that..." He couldn't believe he'd only gotten the darn thing in the mail that morning, school was starting again, right around the corner, and only now did he get the year book. He'd decided to look through his class photos for the last few years in a row, to see how everyone had aged and changed. He'd opened three at once and had splayed them out in a row, looking at one person at a time.

So far he'd been fairly surprised by the change in everyone he came across, the difference in appearance was becoming more and more astounding between the years. He felt a little excited about going back to school, he was excited about the work load, about having something important to do, about learning, and of course seeing how different everyone was after the two months of summer break.

The class list was in alphabetical order by last name; he was on himself, most of the way through the class. He couldn't believe the way even he had changed, looking at the freshman year photo with slight embarrassment. His mom had done his hair for him, greased it back like a proper boy should look. A tie and button up shirt to go with it. He compared the image of himself with his classmates of the same year and shook his head with a laugh; no one had been as done up as he had been.

Steve's eyes skipped on to the next person and he went on with his pattern until he found himself inherently scowling at one of the guys in his grade. Tony Stark. Steve could remember every time he'd worked on a group project involving Tony, the other teen had rubbed him the wrong way every single time. Not a team player, never pulling his weight and always looking for the easiest way out. And the most infuriating part about it was that he usually found it. Steve couldn't handle people cheating their way through life, what was point? They were cheating themselves out of experiences, out of opportunities to grow and better themselves. He never understood it and it enraged him to see others get away with it, especially others like Tony.

If he could have he would've forced Tony to do the same amount of work as everyone else, every single time. Possibly even more, just to help the poor guy make up for all the opportunities he'd missed. But of course, there really was no helping a lazy teenager who didn't want the assistance. Tony was rude, he talked too much; he had a dirty mouth and a dirty mind, a bad influence, as Steve's mother had told him over and over again. Steve furrowed his brow as he looked at the pictures, seeing the same sarcastic, smug smile each time. He scoffed and went on to the next person, decidedly not spending a large amount of time on the selfish brat.

Steve mentally prayed that Tony wasn't in his class, he didn't want to have to sit through another lesson that would inevitably be interrupted with either Tony walked in late or decided to rudely interrupt and argue that the teacher was wrong. It didn't matter so much that the instructor was wrong, everyone makes mistakes, what mattered was that Tony acted this way repeatedly and it was a nuisance to everyone who wanted to get something done. _'Please not him.'_ He thought with a wrinkled nose and furrowed brow.

* * *

"High school? Doesn't matter my boy, even a mere year after you graduate, no one cares how you did in high school." Howard was hunched over a work table dabbling with only he knew what. "Have fun, connections will always get you just as far as hard work does because you have something that those little nose pickers will never have – natural genius."

Tony could have sworn he felt what could've been the start of acceptance, almost a compliment. He'd never heard his father say anything encouraging to him in the past. And sure, he may be blatantly saying Tony's past achievements at school have all been for nothing, but he also called him a genius, and that must count for something. "You meant it?"

"Hell no, what are you, stupid? You've got to work your ass off to get anywhere in life! Now quit coasting and get back to your studies, you're interrupting my work." Howard spared the energy to lift a hand and shoo his son away before returning whole heartedly to his work.

Tony scowled and exited his father's workshop, kicking a robot-looking heaping of metal standing near the door, not bothering to stop at the sound of his father's disapproving shout. "Whatever, I'll show him."

* * *

"_Mm..." Steve could barely lift his eyelids as he felt strong hands slide over his shoulders and down his chest, caressing and stroking his bare skin slowly. It was a sweet touch, nothing corrupt and nothing dirty, just a beautiful and relaxing thing. He exhaled softly and relaxed against the warm body behind him, letting the stranger's wandering hands outline and feel the creases of his muscles, breathing in their scent with a smile. It was soothing and making him feel heavy with sleep, his body slumping and going even more limp. _

_He gasped lightly when the touch was tinged with a perverse thought, fingers trailing over the pink nub of his nipple and pinching slightly. "Hey..." He murmured sleepily, nudging his head against the other person's chin, a slight warning in his tone though it wasn't terribly pushing. A soft chuckle escaped his partner and though he heard it he wasn't really sure he had. Sleep dulled his senses and he couldn't quite make out the voice. _

_Despite his gentle protest the hands continued, one of them snaking down toward his hipline while the other pinched more insistent, rubbing and swirling a finger over the erect flesh. Steve moaned softly when he heard a strange ring, a familiar ring that didn't belong in this situation._

Blue eyes flinched then fluttered open when he heard the subtle sound of his alarm ringing; it was one of the ones that subtly lifted in volume the longer they rang. Steve nearly always woke at the first ring, the sudden absence of silence was a startling thing for him and he couldn't help but wake because of it. A long and drawn out yawn accompanied with a stretch was the best way to start the day and often it was how he did it, his body curving up and shoulder blades pressing back into the mattress. He ran a hand down his front and closed his eyes, a small hope in his head that he didn't have anything embarrassing waiting for him. Luckily there was no surprises, his weekly dream hadn't managed to arouse him that time. Steve could feel it, first day of school; it would be a good day. He lifted himself from his bed and gathered his things, hurrying to the bathroom for a shower and other morning activities.

First day of his senior year, grade 12, last year of high school; needless to say he was excited.

Showered, shaved, teeth were brushed, dressed appropriately he stepped back from the mirror for about two seconds before deciding he looked fine and skipped down the stairs, his long legs carrying him faster to the bottom. "Mom, I'm up!" he called, "I think I'm gonna head to school early so don't worry about breakfast." He was already wriggling his feet into his shoes when he heard her shout back at him.

"Steven Grant Rogers you march your butt into this dining room, young man. You won't get very far without any food in your belly." She had on her best mom voice that demanded his immediate attention. Steve shuffled into the room and was about to protest but decided better of it when he saw her serious expression.

"Yes ma'am." He smiled and took his place at the table, a plate of scrambled eggs, bacon, toast and breakfast sausage placed in front of him, along with a glass of orange juice. "Wow, looks amazing."

"And you almost skipped it." Sarah kissed his cheek, ignoring the 'aw mom' kind of reaction she got from her little man and went to finish packing his lunch. "Now I'm going to be working late tonight," She zipped the bag up and put it in his backpack without really asking permission. She was his mom, she was more than allowed.

"Again?" Steve asked, glancing up with concerned eyes, "Didn't you work late yesterday? Why are you even up at this hour?"

"I'm not missing my baby's first day of his senior year." She smiled which only made Steve feel guiltier. "Don't worry about it, sweetheart."

Steve made a mental note to never skip out on breakfast again, his mom wasn't always going to be up to make him things and he'd miss out on so much if he didn't take the extra 20 minutes to sit down with her. It had only been that summer that she really started working late, she'd been getting lucky until then but every nurse ends up on the graveyard shift at some point. "Alright," he gave her his best grin and started digging into his breakfast, finding he was starving and mentally thanking his mother because he couldn't speak past a mouthful of food.

"Slow down, there isn't anyone behind you trying to steal it." Sarah scolded and Steve listened obediently.

Breakfast went down well with the orange juice and Steve was soon readying to step out the door, his backpack slung over his shoulder and shoes on he called into the house one last time, "See you later mom, I love you."

"Love you too, Steve." Sarah gave him a quick wave before heading off to do her own thing.

Steve paused before leaving and went into the living room for a moment; he lifted his hand to his forehead and saluted firmly. "Love you, dad." He gently touched the picture frame before bolting out the door. After getting up early and spending the extra time with his mom he found that he was going to be late if he didn't hurry.

But Steve Rogers is never late. He ran fast and ended up being about ten minutes early, just enough time to get his locker and get to his seat. Perfect. As he planned his way around the next ten minutes he noticed a crowd of people generally blocking the hall. Steve pursed his lips together briefly before relaxing them again and just attempting to squeeze by. He noticed that the crowd wasn't random at all; it was around the one and only Tony Stark. Steve rolled his eyes and slipped by, his broader shoulders brushing past more than a few people.

It took much longer than expected but Steve managed to get his locker figured out and placed all of his books inside, fishing out the right ones and running to class before the bell went. He was in his seat as the morning announcements started and he let out a relieved sigh. Not late, still had his perfect attendance and didn't manage to mar it on the first day. So far so good.

Of course nothing ever lasted, did it? First, Tony was clearly in his home room and by the look of it, most of his classes. From what Steve knew, Tony had more than enough credits to graduate, even had the courses done on his own and was just taking the last year because he felt like it. Of course that could have just been a rumour, though Steve didn't put it past the billionaire teen. Also, since it was senior year there would be very little 'easing into' the course curriculum and after they read over the general outline and rules, like they always had to do, the teacher jumped right into it. Group projects.

Little did Steve know that earlier that week during the teacher's meetings, each senior instructor had decidedly made a pact; for every group project they assigned, they would ensure that Tony Stark would be part of Steve Rogers' team. It wasn't a way of punishment, it was a thought out plan that they truly assumed would work. Steve wasn't a straight A student but he never stopped trying. His determination and hard working manner was admirable at the very least, he was a team player and always did what was right. Tony was basically the opposite. The teachers thought the combination would be beneficial for both parties, that Tony would take Steve's average up where it deserved to be, and Steve would increase Tony's selfishness.

Steve sat with his mouth agape as his first group of the year was called out, luckily there were a few others involved, it was a four man thing but that didn't stop Steve from gaping. He glanced over at the other group members, noting that they were at least good at following direction and he knew a few of their strengths in teams so it wouldn't be so bad as long as the other two went along with him. Steve turned his gaze on Tony with slight dismay, wishing he could weasel out of it somehow. But that wasn't what he did. Not Steve. Life gave him this scenario and it was up to him to make it into something, groaning and complaining wouldn't accomplish anything useful.

When finally given a moment to gather in their groups, Steve immediately grabbed his pen and notepad, quickly scribbling their names down on it and the minor assignment details he'd need to know, "Alright, so this thing's fairly open, research a human rights related topic, write an overall report on it to hand in, a power point and/or video to present to the class, and our own little added touch for the extra creativity marks. Any ideas?" He looked up at the group with bright eyes, "I think we should start by listing some topics to cover."

Tony dropped himself into the desk in front of Steve's, turned sideways in the seat and leaned over Steve's desk space to get an unnecessarily closer look at his notepad. Every action he made reflected on his personality: when Tony Stark walked into a room, he owned that room. He was comfortable everywhere he went, and one could see it in the casual way he treated the people and objects in his path. This classroom was no different, and neither was Steve's desk.

"How about the church?" Tony offered, knowing full well what kind of hot water he was stepping into. He had a ghost of a wry smile shadow across his lips as he continued. "Everyone's always up in arms about people trying to silence the church when actually the Christian faith is single handedly responsible for some of the most atrocious violations of human rights. Even basic Sunday Services are offending in their nature."

Steve's gaze was nearly on fire as he glared at Tony. "First, you know full well that you're stepping on toes and you're doing it on purpose. Stop it. Second, that's too controversial and it'll cause too much fighting along the way, but I'm sure you already knew that." He didn't want to address what Tony had said specifically, they'd gotten into far too many religious arguments to start another one. Steve knew where it was going to go, Tony would throw facts at him and try to disprove his belief. It wasn't that he didn't believe the facts, or that he was closed minded to all of the different theories out in the world. Steve was raised with his beliefs and stuck by them firmly. If someone wanted to ask him about his faith he would share his opinion, other than that he did his best not to force it on others. He respected their choices as long as they did the same with his.

Tony Stark didn't fit that exception.

"Hey, you wanted ideas, I'm coming up with ideas," Tony's hands were up, palms facing Steve in a mock surrender. "And they're damn good ones," he smirked Steve's way; he loved to get under the other teen's skin. "If you're so oppressively devout, then we don't have to."

"This has_ nothing_ to do with-!" Steve stopped himself, noticing his voice had already risen to a shout and calming it down. "If we're going to touch on religion, we'll cover the freedom of religion, a right to believe what you want without being persecuted." His stare was piercing as he spat the last words out. "Enough arguing about that, it's a sensitive topic and we've fought enough about it just by mentioning it that I think having it as our topic would have us at one another's throats in a heartbeat."

"In all fairness," Tony interjected, "I simply offered an idea when you _asked_ for one, doing more to participate in this group discussion than our other two group mates, might I add –and _you're_ the one at my throat." He leaned back in his seat and propped his heels up on the chair of the desk across the aisle from him. "Go ahead and run the show, Pope Steve, I'll be here when you need me." With that Tony replaced his trademarked sunglasses over his eyes, presumably to nap.

"You're trying to pick a fight," Steve pointed out but he could tell that Tony wasn't entirely wrong. Steve was always on edge and ready to fight back when it came to Tony because that's just how most of their conversations ended up and quite frankly he was just too used to being ready for it. He'd jumped to it first and he knew that much. He exhaled slowly and nodded, he wasn't going to let Tony ruin his day and he didn't want to be the one to start the ruining process in the first place. He'd been raised better than that. "But you're right, I was at your throat, it was a valid idea and I shot it down, I'm sorry Tony." He smiled and looked sincerely apologetic, because he really was, "Can you please keep working with us?"

Tony slid his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose and peered out at Steve, one eyebrow cocked in curiosity. Steve wanted to play the part of the bigger man. Fine, two can play at that game. "Absolutely captain," Tony saluted, a gesture made purely in mockery of Steve' presumed authority. He slipped his shades back on top of his head and reengaged the group.

Steve furrowed his brow at that; Tony hadn't taken his apology seriously. _'For the love of... What do I have to do to- No. No. We're good. Nothing's wrong here. Just... let it go Steve.'_

Eventually they settled on a topic after a long and thought out debate, Steve didn't want Tony to just pick something and run with it, he wanted the entire group to be excited about the idea before taking off with it. The process took a little longer than he would have previously preferred but they'd settled on the rights of children. No one can get into a murderous debate over children, Steve was glad for that much. He'd thwarted several of Tony's ideas, basically all of them aimed to get to him, bother him in some way or other. It was the first day of senior year, he wasn't going to let one little twerp get under his skin.

But each day that passed with this project he found himself ready to strangle the arrogant teen. They'd made a schedule and a list of who would research what and as the days ticked by and their deadline closed in quickly Steve noticed that Tony didn't have the same amount of work done, he'd put it off, ignored it and with only a few days left Steve approached him again.

"Tony." The larger teen kept his tone gentle and pleasant, not wanting to start the conversation with an argument. "Can I talk to you for a second?" He motioned toward an area where it'd be just them.

"One-on-one?" Tony asked with faux shock, "I know I'm perfect, but I'm really not in the market for men," Tony jibed in reply. Some days he honestly wondered if tormenting Steve was the sole reason he continued to attend high school.

Steve flushed and furrowed his brow, "Just... follow me, okay?" He led Tony outside the classroom and away from their group members. The blonde crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the wall with a thoughtful expression, he drummed his fingers on his bicep a moment before deciding on the words. "Tony, I've noticed you haven't gotten your share done yet." Blue eyes shifted and gazed into brown, displaying his concern simply. "We're three days away from the deadline and we need to put the whole thing together and practice the presentation before it's due this Friday. You're not pulling your weight."

"Seeing as how I have a smaller frame than the others in our group, particularly you, I don't have as much weight to pull," Tony replied smoothly, fully defiant of Steve's assumed role as group leader. Tony didn't care to tell Steve why, didn't care to make excuses or justifications that would make his actions seem anything less than fully intentional and deliberate. Steve had no business knowing that Tony was enrolled in full time college studies through evenings, weekends, and internships. He had no business knowing how hard Tony's father pushed him or how bad the punishment would be if he failed. Tony attended high school classes purely for the social interactions; it was one of the few places he was regarded as truly intelligent, where he could interact with others without needing to compute complex algorithms in his head.

Steve frowned deeply at that, "Tony, you know that's not the kind of weight I mean." He was trying to be nice about this, approach it humbly and solve it without an issue, because really, Tony was part of their group and he should do his part. "When I say 'pull your weight' I mean your portion of the shared weight of the project, how heavy I am or they are doesn't make a difference at this point. You've done almost nothing, Tony. You contributed ideas at the start of it and even though we had a minor fall back with that, I thought we'd fixed it." Steve had taken charge of the project, not that he officially said 'I'm the leader' but most of the problems the other group members had went straight to him, a flaw in their idea, they went to him, they couldn't find a way to be motivated so they relied on him to push them along. It wasn't something Steve bullied his way into, people knew he was responsible and that he'd get things done if left to him, or left alone at all. And now that the group had been complaining about Tony's lack of assistance it was left to Steve to go and fix it. Always.

"Just relax, don't worry your pretty little head over it," Tony paused and looked inwardly contemplative for a moment, "Well, don't worry your large meaty head over it. Anyway, I'll get it done on time, I always do." Tony was entirely convinced that Steve took these group projects far too seriously, all the while never figuring out how to do it right. The blonde teen always poured his heart into his work, but in Tony's not-so-humble-opinion the teen should be pouring his _head_ into it instead.

Blue eyes steeled at him then, Steve grit his teeth but tried to bite back his anger. He was always level headed except for when it came to Tony Stark. Always the biggest pain in his ass and he didn't know how to deal with the self-centered teen. "My head's not that big, and 'getting it done on time' is only part of the problem. We need your share before the due date, Tony, and you should be working _with_ us, not alongside us. It's a group project, we're a team. I'm not letting you sleep through this class; you're going to work on it like the rest of us, understood?" He squared his shoulders and straightened up off the wall to make his point a little clearer. He didn't like to use size as an intimidator in any way but if Tony wanted to make fun of 'meaty head' then he'd do what was necessary.

"'_Understood_'?" Tony balked at the terminology, "Listen here, Cap, I'm not a team player. I never have been, and I don't need to be." Tony felt a chill run down his spine at the sight of Steve, the teen never looked so _big_. Tony didn't hesitate, Steve wouldn't hurt a fly, and even if the overly obedient soldier boy was livid beyond compare, he still wouldn't throw the first punch. "You dragged me here, out of sight, practically behind the goddamn school, with the intention of _bullying_ me –Tony Stark- into doing school work? Something's broken in that empty head of yours." Tony jammed his fist into his pocket and removed a small USB flash drive. "Here," he tossed it at Steve. "My completed portion of the assignment, every part of it. Not to mention the rewrites I did for the other two group members. They're C-students, Steve. They're coasting on your back more than I am."

"I took you back here to talk to you," Steve caught the USB and shoved it in his pocket, "I just wanted to discuss your part of the project, why didn't you just give this to me then? Why did you have to try and make it funny or something? I don't think you're cool for doing it and neither does anyone else." His jaw was firmly set as he stared down at Tony, "And they aren't coasting, I've been pushing them just as much as I've been pushing you. Why is it so hard for you to just accept you're in a group and work with us?"

"I _have_ accepted that I'm in a group, and it's a freaking pain in the ass. It's not like I'm in denial about the damn thing." Tony turned and started to walk away, infuriated at the other teen. "Oh, and for your goddamn information," Tony whirled around to face Steve for this, "No one asked me for the damn files, or even where I was at with the damn thing. I've been done for days." He flipped the other boy off and stormed away.

Steve glared after the gesture and threw his arms in the air, shouting after Tony, "So every time I asked you what you were up to or what part you were on sounded like a fog horn to you or something! ?" He slammed his fist into the wall and bit back the pained cry that flew to the tip of his tongue. "And doing all their work for them because you don't want a bad grade doesn't help!" He hollered louder, surprised he could get that loud. Of course, Tony probably wasn't listening anymore.

* * *

As the year progressed Tony was starting to feel the pressure. He'd never admit it, not to his negligent father or his non-existent best friend, but senior year wasn't the cake walk he'd expected it to be. His grades were nearly perfect –no thanks to Steve Rogers. Every other year was easy-peasy, and Tony had always been able to opt out of group projects, or at least run them. No one else in his class had ever had a problem with letting him do all the work and taking a perfect grade. Not until Steve Rogers. Tony could pull his hair out he was so frustrated with the teen. He was the exception to every norm and Tony was beginning to really _hate_ that. But he wouldn't show it, and as far as Steve had ever known, he'd _never_ gotten under Tony's skin. That was part of the reason it was so easy to get under his. Tony had a reputation of being socially impenetrable; he won every argument, and even in the rarer circumstances where he was wrong the loss ran off his back like water –unfazed.

Tony sat slumped at the table in the physics class room; an uncomfortable stool for a seat did little to ward off his fatigue. College midterms were right around the corner, luckily out of sync with high school midterms, but generally far more daunting. He had the formulas for a grass-roots AI program floating around in his head, taking the occasional shape of ones and zeros and then more complicated coding, before dissipating out of concrete thought. He needed sleep. Nothing was making sense anymore, and running on three hours of sleep in the past 72 hours of work just wasn't cutting it. Tony opened his binder; the front page clasped in the rings was the course syllabus. '_December 2__nd__ – Group Project_.' Tony groaned and hit his forehead to the table.

"This will be a group project; you will team up in threes and put a report together, an essay, and a 3D model of your choice representing something we've covered in the first unit." The physics teacher strolled across the front of the room, writing the teams on the board. "Each person must have their hand in each part of the project; you're not allowed to give one person the model, one person the essay, and the last person the group report. You are going to present the report to the class in two weeks..."

The teacher's voice slowly vanished as Steve's heart fell, he watched in dismay as the name Tony Stark was written first and right next to it Steve Rogers, the teacher hadn't even looked down at the list to know that much. He was starting to get that something fishy was going on here but he didn't complain. Steve Rogers doesn't complain about these kinds of things, he'd just roll with it and take what was given to him. He was being taught how to handle difficult people at an early age, he was being given an opportunity and he would learn from it. Of course that didn't make it suck any less.

The only saving grace he had, or thought he had, was the fact that Bruce Banner was in their group. The soft spoken teen wouldn't argue and Steve knew Bruce's work ethic, he'd get his share done and on time. The problem, again, was Tony. It was times like this that Steve wished his best friend wasn't older than him, Bucky was a year ahead of him and because of that they didn't get to work on the same projects. Granted Steve could ask Bucky questions about how last year had gone for him, but his friend had graduated so now he couldn't even sit with him for lunch. It was starting to look like he'd replaced Bucky with Tony and as far as he could see it, that was not an even trade. But it was rude to say anything and his mom had told him like several other moms, if you can't say anything nice then don't say anything at all. When he remembered her words he tried to stick by them, though sometimes he just got mad and things happened to fall out.

Like they did half way through that project.

"Tony! You're irresponsible, not a team player, and quite frankly your personality could use some work!" Steve shouted as he picked up the pieces of the model off the floor. He'd done his best to make the model at least a little bit interesting, a model that Bruce had made the skeleton of and Steve had been left to decorate it. Because Tony 'had his own way' of doing things, or something like that. Regardless of what his reason was, he didn't have the right to toss it off the desk like he had. So what if what Steve had added was _entirely_ perfect to the way the real model was? The skeleton of what Bruce had made wasn't perfect either, it didn't matter, they were both doing their best and it should be good enough for their teammate. Clearly not.

"Oh, is that what you think?!" Tony roared back, "You have a problem with how I do things and so your great come back is 'my personality could use some work'?!" Tony caught himself, he was shouting, he was _stressed_. "This is a physics project Steve, you suck at physics," Tony said evenly, collecting his thoughts and stowing his temper. "It's numbers and measurements and research, not _art_."

Steve gave up and dropped the pieces, rounding on his group member with a tamed growl though not by much. "You don't pull your weight, you procrastinate with everything, you don't care about the projects you're on or your group's grades, and you're a selfish, self-centered, narcissistic little brat! You do so little work that we end up carrying the group and the project ourselves and at the very end you add your 'portion' of it, which, by the way, isn't helping when you add it ten minutes before the presentation. Then you try to take over and give yourself all the credit! I'm sick of it, Tony! Either help, or don't, but don't you dare lie about how much you put into this. It's as much of a group learning experience as it is meant for us to learn the material."

Bruce fidgeted and quietly picked up the pieces, moving to glue them back together. He wanted absolutely nothing to do with the fight that was starting, or had started, or whatever. He just wanted to pass, graduate, and do something fun with science, chemistry and biology in particular. Bio-chemistry. Maybe he'd be the one to make the first zombie virus someday, and then the group project wouldn't mean a damn thing. But he really didn't have the nerve to say anything like that, instead he quietly worked on the project like a good nerd.

"You and I have two _very_ different ideas of how a group should be run," Tony replied evenly, if not with a bit of effort. "Your group work utopia is communism, you want everyone to do an equal amount of work all around and share in the benefits equally, like everyone working on the project is equal. Very un-American, Steve," he said matter-of-factly. "But I've got news for you, not everyone is equal. You measure work by the amount of time a person is putting into something, but you know what? I already know all of this! I don't need to do the readings or the research because I already know it! I can write out associated journal grade material _from my head_. And you don't seem to realize how much the group benefits from having me in it. Brainstorming: me, data sources: me, resources: me. I may wait until the last minute to get it done, but I still get it done, and then some. I have all of your pieces already because you've finished it with time to spare, and I correct it, I edit it, and I fix the garbage you lesser people take for fact and good work."

"Your problem isn't that you're too smart for us or not everyone is equal, Tony!" Steve bellowed, the entire classroom nearly shook with the force of his voice, any nerd in the room might have giggled about a 'fus ro dah' reference but no one said it out loud. His face was turning red and the veins in his neck were clear as day. "Your problem is that you don't know how to work in a group! You're frustrated and trying to do it all yourself because you think we're 'lesser beings' or something. Let me tell you something, you arrogant prick! You should be frustrated with yourself, you should be mad at yourself and I'd even go as far as to say disappointed. For all the things you boast you have, that you can do all on your own, you can't work in a group. For all of your 'I'm perfect' talk you can't stand the flaw that is so painfully obvious! I've been in every group you have been this year, I've seen it over and over again. No matter what I do to get you in on the group activities, the group meet ups and work periods, you won't take the hint! I've been in enough groups in my schooling life to know for a fact that people _can_ be equal if you give them the right work and keep them going." Steve seethed, his shoulders tense and looking very solid.

Tony glared at Steve; full-on _glowered_ at the other teen. His eye twitched, an unconscious reaction to the containment of his anger. Steve would look the fool if Tony could just win this argument, keep his cool. The glare was gone in seconds, replaced with a confident smirk, "That's a lot of talk there, Steve." Steve was angry and shouting, everyone present could see the full blowing of a gasket on this one, "Did anyone ever tell you that you might benefit from an anger management class?" Tony couldn't help but take a moment to admire the Adonis before him, and take in the hard lines of the other teen's shoulders and arms. Tony sighed, "You're not listening: I Don't Need To Work With Others. It's not that I can't, and I'm not inherently unable. Why would I trust other people to take on work that I already have done, why would I knowingly put my grades in the hands of people who I _know_ are stupider than I am? If people are 'equal' when you give them the right work, then the right work for most clowns is saying yes sir to whatever the heck I tell them."

'_He's trying to rile you. He's trying to make you angry.'_ Steve tried to calm himself though he was admittedly seeing red. "What are you trying to say, Tony?" He hadn't missed the glare, had caught every little twitch in Stark's face. Two could play that game, he could calm himself down.

"He's trying to say I'm retarded and so are you." Bruce pointed out and glanced at Tony with a mostly neutral expression though his eyes seemed to be on fire with something. "I'd like to show him up too. Though he _is_ part of the team, Steve and we have to work with him just as much as he has to work with us." Bruce looked at raging teen, his tone doing much better at sound calm than Steve's was. "So let's just get through this, alright? We all have our strengths, mine and Tony's are closer to this subject than yours are, it would do you some good to relinquish leadership."

"I'm not _trying_ to be a leader, here." Steve's shoulders relaxed, the vein slowly fading from the surface of his skin, "But when people ask questions I answer them, if I give a direction you don't agree with then explain why yours is better." He glanced at Tony then, "In an acceptable way that isn't picking a fight."

"Like you're not trying, you control freak-"

"Enough!" Bruce slammed his hand on the desk; the show of anger was almost more frightening than Steve's. And then it was gone. "Tony, you broke the model, you're making a new one. Steve, go over the report and fix the mistakes you find. After you're both done with those tasks, you switch. Tony you fix up the things Steve missed –_do not rewrite everything or I will strangle you_. Steve, you'll then make our model look decent and presentable –_alter the shape and general function of it in anyway and the same punishment is yours._" He smiled then and put his hands together, "We good?"

Tony blinked twice, trying to process what just happened. His mind was already reeling with retorts, 'what was the point in having Steve edit the report if Tony was going to edit it again?' 'what was Bruce going to do?' but instead of voicing these complaints Tony had the good graces about him to just let it go, "Yeah, we're good."

Steve swallowed and nodded, taking the report and refusing to look at Tony.


	2. Chapter 2

**Zafona's Notes:**

**As some of you already know, this is an account made up by two different people, the user Zafona and Touta Matsuda. Links to those other accounts are in our profile. We also have a new SCP universe deal being set up and it'd be awesome if you'd check that out :D Though I'd settle for a review ;) Anyway please enjoy this next chapter :3**

* * *

It was finally reading week, and Tony couldn't be happier. Finally some down time, no evening classes for a full week, just high school, simple, boring, easy high school. Or it would be simple, if it weren't for the upcoming history project: group work. Again. Tony had grown to hate group work, not because it wasn't fun and certainly not because it wasted tonnes of class time, but because he seemed to be on the Steve Rogers exclusive for senior year. That over-sized teen dream was going to put a hole right in the centre of Tony's work ethic, he just knew it. Tony felt compelled to do worse when paired with Steve, just to snub him. But not this time, this time Tony had a plan.

"I'll be assigning the groups for this next project."

The teacher's words were like poison in the class because just about everyone moaned in distaste. Steve didn't make a noise but he did close his eyes, not a single group project had been 'get into partners' it was always 'Steve you're with Tony'. He waited patiently and wasn't surprised when he saw their names paired together. Just groups of two this time. Just him and Tony. '_I'm not letting him pull the last minute hand in, not this time, not with me.'_ He thought bitterly, then his face lit up. _'I'm not going to let him at all. I'll just talk to the teacher.'_

Once everyone was given the work period Steve immediately walked to the teacher's desk, shifting a little awkwardly before speaking up, "Uhm, excuse me?"

"Yes, Steve?"

"I was wondering if... well if I could... I don't normally do this but I've been teamed up with Tony all year from every class and I was wondering if you could change my partner for this one?" He smiled sweetly though the instructor didn't seem fazed by his charm.

"Sorry, Steve. I made the groups already; you'll just have to deal with it."

He wanted to argue but knew better and nodded. "Right, thanks anyway." Steve sighed and went back to his desk, looking over the project outline with mild depression. This year was running him so ragged it wasn't even funny. Patience tested at every corner and quite frankly he wasn't in the mood to deal with Tony, not that week. A day coming up that week marked the anniversary of his father's death the few years before; he really didn't have the patience to be dealing with Tony during all of that.

Tony dropped himself into the seat next to Steve, a wide smile on his face. "Hey there, partner," he chimed, almost sing-song. "So for this history project, I had a few ideas. How about the Renaissance? You like art and I like inventors and both of them were growing in leaps and bound during that time. It could be like Leonardo da Vinci versus Michael Angelo, a historic reimagining of Tony Stark versus Steve Rogers. What do you think?" Tony was excited, energized, and had a twinkle in his eye. He doubted Steve had the faintest idea of what he was planning.

Blue eyes shifted up curiously, Tony was excited? He was excited to do a group project? Well maybe this wasn't so much a group project as a pair project... Regardless, it was nice to see Tony actually into something. And his idea wasn't all that bad. "You know... I actually like it. Sounds like a big undertaking but I think if we both do our part we shouldn't have too much of an issue." Steve leaned forward and made a few notes about it.

"Like always there's a report that needs to be written but other than that this thing's pretty open ended... We only have a week really, I think the report's one of the only things involved." Steve glanced at the weight of the assignment and shook his head, "No way... that can't be it..." he noticed that the assignment was a good 35% of their final grade for the course, how the heck were they going to achieve that with a one week assignment that involved a single report? He went over the outline again; a lot was riding on 'how far they were willing to go'. What did that mean? Part of him was really questioning the general sanity of this teacher every day but this just took the cake. "How far you are willing to go, worth about 75% of the final product... Do you get that?"

"Sweet Jesus on a tortilla, thank God," Tony sighed in relief. His expression was meant to be purely comical, excessive, and gaudy. He failed to even realize or consider that his ongoing religious war with Steve may have been piqued by the wayward statement. Tony just kept on talking, "I hate doing dioramas and presentations. Reports I can do. And how far we're willing to go? Could be anything. Could be how long the report is, or how in depth, whether people will throw money at it, or seek out Vietnam war vets, etc etc. I wouldn't worry about that part, I've got a plan." Tony smiled wryly.

"You have a plan?" Now why didn't he like the sound of that? Oh well, Tony was contributing right off the hop. Maybe he'd finally gotten through that thick, genius-sized skull of his. "And your plan will cover the 'how far will you go' portion? Oh now I'm worried..."

It was well known that some teachers didn't have all their screws in and it was even more known that this teacher in particular was difficult to please for that exact reason. He always assigned things that seemed easy but there was always a hidden agenda. How far they were willing to go, how much they were willing to do on this project was the new clue and Steve didn't like where it was going.

"Renaissance, right? A big project, daunting –our report will have to be impressive, and the heaviest portion is how far we're willing to go, so how about this? How far we're willing to go is to be interpreted as distance: we, my dear Steve, are going to Europe." Tony Stark was not going to spend his college reading week at home, no-sir-ee. It was vacation time. He hadn't planned on bringing Steve with him, but this was just as good. Now he had company, he had the closest thing to a friend that he'd really acquired all year, all to himself across the ocean for a whole week.

"What?" Steve nearly coughed, choking on the words. "Uh... Tony... I don't know... That sounds expensive and kind of excessive, doesn't it? Can't the 'how far we'd go' be something like digging deeper into things like conspiracy theories or something? That's really far and I've never... I don't know."

"Don't be such a worry wart," Tony waved his hand in front of his face, almost as though Steve's concerns bothered him about as much as an inconvenient fly. "C'mon! It's only for a few days, and it'll be fun! I'll pay for everything; you don't have to worry about a thing. You don't owe me anything. I don't expect anything in return, cool?" Almost as an afterthought he added, "Besides, how often do you get to see Europe?"

It was tempting, it really was. Steve hadn't ever gone on a trip before, aside from the road trips that his dad used to take them on. "Only a few days?" He raised an eyebrow at that, "We can't miss a lot of class right now, it'll only be for a few days?" He tapped his fingers on the table and thought seriously for a moment. _'If it's only a few days and we leave soon... I should be back in time. Should be fine. And how often do I get to see Europe? For free?'_ "Alright, deal."

"Finally! Awesome, so I'm going to get everything set today, and I'll pick you up tomorrow morning around say..." Tony trailed off for a moment, trying to remember when his already-booked flight left. "Four a.m."

"Four?" Steve nearly groaned at the prospect of getting up at three-ish but decidedly didn't. That'd be complaining, and he didn't complain about free things. "Alright. Four it is." He smirked a little, "You already had this set up and ready to go, didn't you? That confident you'd get a yes out of me or were you planning on taking off regardless?"

"Of course I had this planned in advance, I always think ahead," Tony replied proudly, "And I don't know a single person in their right mind who would say no to a free trip to Europe. It didn't occur to me that you'd even say no. Looks like I was right." Tony smirked at that, almost daring Steve to back pedal on pride alone. Tony didn't let the moment linger, a small part of him worried that Steve actually might, and clapped the taller teen on the shoulder, "Looks like work period is pretty useless. I'll see you tomorrow –I need to get some sleep."

Part of Steve wanted to argue and say that they needed to plan out what they were going to do, but he decided that he could probably handle that on his own and smiled, "Right, I'll see you later."

* * *

Steve moaned softly, his hips pushing down into the bed and his fingers grasping at the sheets. His breath hitched and he could feel the heat in his face, still wrapt in slumber and the sweet feeling of sleep holding his eyes closed he cried out a little louder. A desperate whine accompanied by a begging whisper, "Tony..." he gasped softly, "Please..." Then his alarm went off, the first ring dragging his eyes open in a startled panic.

Three thirty in the morning, he had approximately half an hour before Tony would arrive. Steve had convinced his mother that the few days trip would be fine, that he'd be home sooner than she thought and he'd be back for their annual dinner.

He yawned and stretched and immediately noticed why he'd been face down in the bed. "Ohhh come on!" He groaned, trying to will the engorged flesh back down, not that that ever worked for him. His dream fluttered back to him instead, reminding him all the more why he was so stiff. Tony. He had been dreaming of Tony. Steve shook his head and slapped himself on the cheek several times. "Shower. I need to shower." He pulled himself from the bed and hurried quietly to the bathroom, his hand moving to nurse the aching erection pushing against his pyjama pants. He closed his eyes and leaned against the bathroom door, allowing himself the quiet moment of relief as he stroked slowly though trying hard not to let the thoughts from his dream seep in.

He'd only thought of Tony because they were being forced on one another so often; he'd seen more of the genius in the last few months than he'd ever wanted to. Stupid brown eyes always looking down on him like he was a Neanderthal or something. Stupid annoying Tony, sneaking into his dreams at night and working him up right before they went on their short trip, right before the billionaire would arrive to pick him up. Stupid annoying hands touching him, warm and knowing exactly where he needed it, knowing just what to do to get him breathing heavily and begging.

Steve caught himself panting against the wooden door, his hand working the hardened flesh and teasing every sensitive point, his mind acting as if it hadn't just been pretending that was Tony's touch. "What is wrong with me?" He thought tiredly, undressing the rest of the way and stepping into the shower to turn it on, his hand going back immediately to finish the job, he was so close, he just didn't want to cum while think of Tony. There was no way he would let his stupid hormone-crazy brain imagine the wet, hot stream of the water combined with his hand was the pressure of Tony's mouth, or that there were invisible hands grasping at his thighs and lower back, pressing him forward and getting him to thrust slowly into the touch.

He moaned loudly, the sound being cut off when he covered his mouth with the back of his free hand. His hips jerked forward and he let himself release, resting heavily against the tiled wall as he gulped in air and a bit of spray from the shower head. "Oohhh I just did that..." he covered his face and shook his head in disbelief. "I hate you, scumbag brain." He cursed quietly, "I hate you so much right now. Why would you do that to yourself?"

Steve scolded himself all through his shower, realizing after that he hadn't brought a towel with him. "Ah nuts-I mean rats." He was too aware of everything that could be taken as a sexual innuendo. He'd have to tone that down before meeting Tony. Definitely. _'Stupid teenaged brain. Stupid Tony being everywhere and always in my stupid group.'_ Steve peeked out of the bathroom, glanced to make sure his mom's room was still closed, satisfied that it was he snuck back to his bedroom with his dirty laundry.

Tony looked up suddenly, dropping Steve's sketch book back onto the desk where he'd found it –or close enough. He was frozen like a deer in the headlights for longer than he knew. Steve was standing right there –naked. So completely naked, and very, very wet. Tony's eyes raked over Steve's nude body and his throat worked to swallow. "Hiya Cap," Tony said cheerfully, trying his hardest to keep the upcoming conversation as normal and civil as he could manage. He just needed to get Rogers on that plane.

"OH MY GOD WHY ARE YOU IN MY HOUSE!" Steve panicked completely, the words all coming out in one massive jumble as he frantically tried to cover himself, dropping this and that and ended up holding his night shirt over the most intimate part. He quickly tried to quiet himself, his free hand covering his mouth as he realized how loud he'd just been. "Why are you in my room?" He tried a second time, this time quieter. He had absolutely nowhere to go to hide or anything, this scenario had been so far from his mind. He couldn't even turn around; his rear would be completely exposed.

"I saw your light on and figured you were awake and, well you're a momma's boy, so you probably wouldn't appreciate me ringing the doorbell and waking her up. Actually, she probably wouldn't appreciate that either," Tony was talking rapidly, too rapidly to be considered normal. He was flustered, and trying hard to fight the heat away from his face. Why did Steve Rogers have to be built like a god? "Yeah."

Steve's face was warmer and redder than he thought had been humanly possible. His ears were burning and the blush was bleeding down his neck as he stared at Tony awkwardly, trying to make sense of why the billionaire had broke into his home. "The door was locked- whatever. Would you uh..." He side stepped away from the door and motioned toward the hall, "Would you mind giving me a moment?" He swallowed nervously and tried to smile, glancing out the door a few times. Steve was trying his hardest to not think about the dream, the shower, any of it as he watched Tony stark in his bedroom, any and every sexual fantasy tugging at the nerves of his teenaged brain. What was wrong with him?

"Oh!" Tony seemed legitimately surprised at the request, "Of course, that makes sense. I'll uh," Tony strafed around the room, keeping a 'respectable' distance from his classmate, "I'll just be out here, waiting for you to dry off and get dressed." Tony slipped out of Steve's bedroom and into the hall, daring a backwards glance at Steve's behind before closing the door.

Steve closed the door and leaned against it, he was now about to spend the next few days the guy he'd just probably flashed. _'I hope he didn't see anything. Please don't let him bring that up again. Please?'_ He begged silently as he found his towel and started drying off. This was going to be a long few days.

* * *

"You ever been on an airplane before?" Tony asked conversationally. The two of them were in line at customs, waiting to be processed.

"Nope," Steve smiled, a little excited if the slight bounce in his stance was anything to go by. "Not even once. Only ever really seen the inside of a plane when I watch movies."

"Kinda figured. I hope you're not afraid of flying, Cap. This is going to be a long one." Tony had grown to like the nickname, originally an insult from their first project of the year. Steve was easily trained and responded to it every time.

"I ain't scared of much, Tony." Steve turned his smile on the genius for a moment, having taken to the militarized nickname. As insulting as Tony wanted to be with it, it never had bothered Steve to be called a captain. It was fitting, or so he thought.

Tony let out a small laugh, "Did you just say 'ain't'?" He laughed harder, "You're on your way to Europe, and your brain goes into super backwater mode. It's hilarious." Tony was glad Steve was full of things to make fun of, a perfect distraction from that charming smile.

The taller teen's face flushed a little and he shrugged, "I uh... I honestly have nothing to say to that." He laughed softly and scratched the back of his head, "Maybe... I'm a little scared. Maybe." He knew his brain well enough to know that it liked to back pedal to safety when he was nervous, apparently he hadn't noticed until Tony pointed it out. Of course.

Exiting the airport in Paris was a memory Tony wasn't soon going to forget. The expression of sheer wonder on Steve's face as he took in the sights of the bustling city, roiling crowds, and mixture of architecture spanning across centuries. "You look like a kid in a candy shop," Tony teased, and he cursed himself inwardly at just how affectionate that sounded.

"I feel like one." Steve muttered in awe, his eyes never seeming to be able to focus on just one thing. He hadn't even cared that Tony was a pain in the neck to every stewardess on the plane, well he cared a little as was evident by the 'don't do that Tony' line he used nearly every time. As much as they had fought during the semesters, Steve couldn't help but cling slightly to Tony's side. He'd never been on a trip like this before and he was going without his mom. It was kind of scary. Tony seemed to know what he was doing, best to stick with him.

Tony nearly blushed at the lack of personal space he suddenly had available, since when was Steve so goddamn cute? Take a man out of his element... Tony didn't want to dwell on it. "Come on, our ride's waiting," Tony jerked his head to the side, indicated a man dressed in a fine suit, wearing opaque sunglasses holding a sign that read: 'Stark.' He was standing in front of a very fine 2012 Ferrari. "Quit gawking and get walking!" Tony clapped Steve on the shoulder, walking past him to the trunk of the car with his bags.

Steve didn't need to be told twice, his steps right at Tony's heels. As amazing as it all was he didn't want to get lost overseas. That wouldn't end well and he was sure of it. The car was so nice he almost didn't want to touch it with his common baggage but figured that Tony knew he'd be bringing Steve and it was perfectly fine to do so.

Tony slipped into the backseat, sliding across to the other side of the car, patting the leather upholstery beside him for Steve to join him. Finally: Europe. Tony couldn't be happier to be out of the house, away from his father and all the grief that brought. Tony scowled to himself, remembering the fight they'd had before he left. '_He wouldn't have cared if the plane went down_,' Tony thought grimly. It didn't matter, he reminded himself, he had Steve, all to himself, for a full week in Europe. They'd get back just in time to hand in their report, but until then it was fun in the sun. Sights to see and parties to be had. "Excited yet?" Tony asked the small town boy sitting next to him.

"You have no idea." Steve smiled all over again, "I almost wish we had more time to see the sights and everything, since we're heading back in a day or two." He shrugged, "But I'm just happy to see it at all. Thank you, Tony. Really, thank you."

"Yeah, we both agree on that one, a day or two isn't a whole lot of time," Tony was careful with his words, taking a point Steve had made and twisting it –just slightly- into an agreement between them. It was small, but it was effective. Tony would need all the help he could get in breaking it to Steve that he fibbed just a little on the duration of their trip. "But you're welcome, it's really my pleasure. Any excuse I can get to throw my money around, right?"

"I think it's that a guy like you gets too bored easily." Steve smirked, "You've always had money, you were born into it and everyone knows you have it so I don't think showing it off is part of it. Unless it is and you're just really insecure." He bumped Tony's shoulder with a chuckle, if Tony was allowed to point out his flaws he was allowed to point out Tony's.

"'Insecure'?" Tony balked, "What do I have to be insecure about?" He shot back, half laughing. This was going to be a damn fun vacation, and he wasn't going to let himself fight with Steve when it wasn't necessary. Besides, it almost seemed like the insult was in good fun, like real friends would do. Tony kind of liked it.

'_Well if you can't laugh at yourself...'_ "I dunno, you tell me." Steve grinned, a slight tinge of pink in his cheeks, "Could have something to do with this morning, maybe."

"Oh!" Tony laughed even harder, "Is that where this conversation is going? Really?" He chuckled and wiped a tear from the corner of his eye, a playful smile crossed his lips, "Show me again and I'll let you know."

Steve blushed darkly and shook his head, "Okay, okay you win. Should've known better than to challenge you to one of those conversations." He tried to wipe the red away from his cheeks in vain.

The hotel was as awe inspiring as everything else that Steve had already seen. He stared with big eyes as they walked into the lobby and Tony had gone about the business of checking them in. He reached out and touched the beautifully carved railing with astonishment and wonder, it was amazing. It was all amazing and he couldn't believe he was really here. He was actually in Europe; he'd left America and was in Europe. Steve had a hard time wrapping his head around it.

"Alright, we're all checked in," Tony broke Steve's focus on his surroundings, handing the teen his key card. "Presidential suite, top floor," he said with a grin. "You're not going to love it, trust me." Tony grabbed his bags and headed for the elevator, "Don't fall behind, Cap."

"Don't need to tell me twice." Steve followed pretty quickly, his bags slung over his shoulder. He couldn't help but notice that Tony had a few more things than him. Had Tony planned on changing his outfit twice for every day they were out there? Maybe he was just more prissy than Steve thought. Regardless he decided not to say anything.


	3. Chapter 3

**Zafona's Notes:**

**Hey guys thanks for reading this :) I appreciate the favourites and follows and, you know, would love some feedback on how we're doing. Let us know about some stuff maybe you'd like to see them do in Paris or something :)**

* * *

The small-town teen was not prepared for such a lavish room, his mouth hung open as they walked inside, his bag sliding off his shoulder as he wandered over to one of the large beds, both were in the same room so it wasn't entirely private but Steve had been expecting something small, like a motel or a tiny inn. This was how Tony lived all the time? He honestly couldn't believe that he really was standing here.

"It's amazing." Steve breathed finally, his hands daring to touch the soft sheets, sliding over them as if they were made of gold. "Oh my gosh... Tony I can't pay you back for all of this." He was partially aware that Tony had already said he wouldn't have to but he couldn't help but say it anyway.

Tony couldn't help another laugh at Steve's expense, "This is like a horrible remake of the Prince and the Pauper." Tony shook his head in disbelief, he really had no idea what 'poor' was. "I know I told you that you didn't have to pay me back..." Tony trailed off, knowing somewhere in the back of his mind just how bad that sounded, "And you don't," he quickly assured. "But I haven't been completely honest with you about this trip," Tony removed his ticket from his pocket. "Round trip tickets, departure at 5 a.m. Tuesday morning, return arrival in New York Monday evening around 9 p.m. We're here for almost a full week, plenty of time for sightseeing. Awesome, right?" Tony had the sneaking suspicion that this would be not as awesome for Steve.

Steve slowly straightened up, his mind slowly pushing through the information he'd just received. "A week?" He repeated softly, "As in we won't be back by Thursday evening?" He'd told his mom he'd be back in time. He told her, he _promised_ her and now he was going to be made a liar because he wasn't given the right information. He wasn't just a liar, he wasn't go to be there, he would miss their dinner for the first time in three years. How could he have agreed to this stupid trip? He got greedy and look where that landed him?

Tony was immediately on edge, his mind alert and proceeding with caution, '_That did not sound good_,' he thought to himself, concerned with the lethargic contemplation that had overtaken his classmate. "No," Tony answered slowly, unsure of the right answer, "We won't be back by Thursday. Now I know that means we're missing a lot of school, but I talked to all of our teachers and got us extensions on upcoming school work..."

The blonde stood in silent shock for a moment, telling himself it wasn't his fault. He wasn't to blame for this, it was a project and they needed to do what they could for it. Tony was the one who had said a few days, had misled him. "You..." He growled, cold eyes lifting up, "You _lied_? To get me out here you lied to me? Why does it have to be a week? _Why_ do we need that much time? We've got a few days and that's plenty to get the project done!" He threw his stuff on his bed to busy his hands because he knew he'd punch the little weasel this time. That was wrathful and that was wrong. "I can't even go home when I want to because the damn ticket is only valid on Monday. Perfect! It's just..." He hung his head and ran a hand up through his hair, anger slipping from his tone. "Just perfect..."

Tony stood back, keeping his distance, "It's not a big deal. You said it yourself; a day or two is totally not enough time to see Europe. I thought we were on the same page with that one." Dirty trick, but Tony doubted it would be terribly effective. He hadn't expected Steve to be this mad, missing school wasn't _that_ big of a deal. "I don't understand why you're so angry. So I lied, so what? Trust me, you'll have a blast."

Steve's chest felt heavy and he closed his eyes, slumping down onto the bed and suddenly feeling very tired. Even if he got angry what would that help? It'd just make the trip horrible; he'd still be stuck out there so why even bother thinking about throwing Tony out a window? Exactly.

He shoved his things off the bed and crawled up to the pillows to drop his face into them, "Alright, you win." He mumbled, fighting down the ache beneath his ribcage. It'd be fine. Missing one year wasn't going to be a big deal. "Can I use your phone? I need to make sure my mom doesn't think I died out here when I don't come back by Thursday."

"Of course," Tony fumbled around in his pocket for his second phone. He knew the broadband worked differently in Europe than in North America, and planned ahead. "It should work here, just ah, take all the time you need." Tony handed the phone over to Steve, more than grateful that the other teen had calmed down. With that concern out of the way however, Tony's curiosity as to _why_ it was such a big deal was starting to eat at him.

Steve walked into the bathroom and leaned against the closed door, dialling the number for home and pressing the phone to his ear. "Hi mom," he smiled when he heard her voice and closed his eyes again, "No, no I'm okay... There's nothing in my voice, I'm fine. We made it to the hotel and I uh... I got some news for you... Well Tony found out that the flight tickets he bought weren't for a few days, it's a round trip for a week. I won't be back until Monday... No mom... I won't be home until Monday evening..." he scrunched up his face and squeezed his eye shut tighter, keeping his voice as steady as he could though it still broke when he heard her disappointment. "No... mom I'm sorry. I love you too, okay? It's not that bad. I'll call you, I promise... Okay. Bye mom."

Tony pulled his ear away from the door and jumped across the room like a ninja. What was Steve missing? Tony had been sure it would be school related, but apparently Steve had plans –big ones, family plans. Was it a funeral? That would suck. Whatever it was, Steve was hurting over it. Tony knew that the least he could do to drive away Steve's guilt was distract him from it, distract the hell out of him.

Steve inhaled shakily and shook his head again, composing himself and walking back out, tossing the phone at Tony. "I made an outline of what we should look at for research and what we'll need for the report." He went to fish for his notebook, "When did you want to start the project?"

"We can't help but start the project because we're already here," Tony grinned broadly. "You'll notice that there was no word count for the report, no 'x' number of pages either. It simply said 'report.'" Tony had that mischievous glint return to his eye. "So we'll do a video report." Tony revealed two camcorders from his duffle, "One for you, and one for me. We'll look into the history of this stuff and overlay some notes and narrative when I edit it, but for now, we're doing a project on living history. We will see everything there is to see, try and experience things first hand, and maybe even get ourselves into a bit of trouble. How far are we willing to go, right?" Tony was grinning broadly, excited as all get out.

Steve looked at the camera and smiled, why let something out of his control ruin his week? This was a once in a lifetime opportunity and it was literally being handed to him. All he had to do was sacrifice that one dinner, that one thing devoted to his deceased father... His dad would get it. Joseph had been a very understanding man, very kind and noble, and hilarious about trips. Steve nodded his head and lifted the camcorder to his face and looked for the buttons, "You're serious, aren't you? I can't believe it... This..." Steve laughed softly, "This is incredible, so no writing? That's gonna be my favourite part already." He wasn't sure how to really handle it so he put it back down.

"Great. We don't have to have these things on all the time, but the more we get the better. I'll be up all night Monday after we get back to hand this puppy in on Tuesday, so don't worry about the extra time after we get back, I've got it covered." Tony fiddled around with the camera the other teen had put down and turned it on, handing it back over to Steve insistently.

The blonde took it again, not wanting to decline the gift being given to him, or at least a gift he was borrowing. "Neat." He looked through the lens with an amused smile. "But are you sure? I mean that's gonna be a lot of editing. Maybe we should edit half while we're out here, you know? Like do it one day at a time, whatever we do today we can edit tonight before bed, and so forth. It sounds better to do it like that than swamp you at the end of the trip."

Tony paused and contemplated the idea, "Well, it works in theory, but we aren't presenting it as a day by day documentary. In order to have a full edit, I'll need the whole week's worth of video. Tell you what, we can select out the relevant scenes for the project day by day, and I'll put it together Monday night, deal?"

"Alright, that'll work." Steve nodded and stared down at the camera again, "How do I..?"

Tony stepped closer and reached for the camera, "I'll show you." With the click of a button Steve watched the display flicker slightly. [REC]"See?" Tony's voice came from somewhere off screen. The display shifts, showing Tony's feet. "Easy as pie, you just have to use this dial-switch thing here to zoom in and out. Simple stuff."

"Ohhh..." Steve played with the dial, "I see, I get it."

Tony left Steve to mess around with the device while he set up his own, "I have spare chargers, replacement batteries, and extra memory cards so we should be able to film all day without losing a minute of it. But first things first," Tony turned his now recording camcorder on Steve, "We need to get you some extra clothes, because I'm betting you didn't pack much."

Steve blushed at the camera aimed his way, he wasn't normally recorded, it was strange to know that he'd be able to see everything he did later. _'Act normal and you won't look stupid. Act normal... You know, normal people say something to that kind of thing.' _He shook his head and looked at himself, "Well... No, not really. You told me a few days so I packed as if I'd be arriving here in these clothes, spend the day in them. Sleep; wear new clothes the next day and then the last clothes on the third. I'm kind of not entirely prepared at all." Steve laughed a little, "So what, the first chapter of our documentary is 'Fashion in Paris for a 17-year-old male'?" His face lightened a little as he raised an eyebrow, "The Adventures of Steve and Tony: Shopping in Paris."

"A bonus episode," Tony confirmed in the affirmative.

* * *

Shopping in Paris was vastly different than the malls of the good ol' US of A –there were shops, not malls. They lined the streets in the merchant districts, and there were elaborate street displays outside the shop doors on the side walk as well, inviting the passersby inside for a quick look. "And since I have you all to myself I'm going to make sure we get you something flattering, instead of your khaki pants and flannel print." Tony shuddered inwardly at Steve's fashion atrocities.

"That's on camera, now the world knows you hate my clothing taste." Steve teased, "I look good in khakis and flannel, mom said so." He paused and shook his head, "You'd better edit that part out." Of course, Steve was still in shock at the differences, so many different people in Paris, so beautiful and the shops that Tony was more so drawn to than others were ritzier than Steve dared to think about. The price tags would probably equal his entire summer's pay checks combined.

"No dice, Cap. That was pure mid-west American gold," Tony grinned behind the camera aimed right at Steve's bright red face.

"How did I know you'd say something like that?" Steve muttered with a soft laugh, not really upset about it though he figured he'd be embarrassed when the video was shown at school.

"'How,' you ask? You've gotten to know me far better than you give yourself credit for, that's how." Tony smiled back at Steve, when had they become friends? Tony couldn't be sure if that was even what this was. Whatever it was, it was fun, and Steve was finally loosening up.

"Yeah," The blonde replied softly, a little surprised at the thought. "I guess you're right." It was a strange thing to notice, to be sure, he and Tony had been ready to beat one another senseless for most of the year and somehow, alone on a trip, they hadn't even come close. Maybe it was because Steve was out of his element or because Tony was being particularly thoughtful, regardless, it was really nice. He could get used to this version of Tony stark.

Another thing Steve couldn't help but notice was the way Tony spoke of him, 'I have you all to myself' as in Steve was his possession for the time being. It was weird to think of himself that way but he supposed he was Tony's guest for the trip, better put up with it. And at the same time he really didn't feel offended by it, he actually felt a little special.

After wandering the shops Tony finally managed to get Steve to start trying things on, the darn blonde was fairly stubborn in what he liked and felt comfortable in but the genius was just as stubborn at making people do what he wanted.

"Those." Tony was floored, flabbergasted even. Steve was modeling a pair of casual Dolce slacks, and if Tony was the religious type he may very well have worshipped that ass. "We are getting you those."

Steve looked in the mirror and turned slightly, "You sure they aren't too... I dunno..." He kind of liked the way they looked on him, he'd never had such nice pants before. Maybe khakis really did look bad on him and he just liked them because of how cheap they were, or because his mother always bought them for him. He chanced a glance at the price, thinking maybe he'd like these types regularly. The numbers he saw shocked him paler than he'd been in a while. "Oh gosh, Tony I can't ask you to buy these-"

"Ah tut tut!" Tony interrupted, "I don't care what the price tag is, you are not leaving this store without those pants. I've got it, don't even worry about it." Tony shuffled through the tops available in the store, being careful to avoid the more modest selections, and pulled a simple v-necked blue top from the display. "This, with a blazer. You'll look fantastic."

The taller teen raised an eyebrow at the v-neck and shook his head, "Oh no, circular neck line only, I'm not going out and looking like a douche." He chuckled and continued to shake his head. "Stars, can't do it, not today." He quoted Miguel from the movie El Dorado in as similar a voice as he could. "You are _not_ getting me in that."

"The hell I'm not!" Tony retorted, sifting through several other tops, "You won't wear your own plain clothes with those pants, and if I don't buy you a different shirt, then you won't have any other shirts, and you'll be stuck with it anyway."

"Then I'll just wear old smelly shirts that I already wore," Steve stated matter-of-factly. "You'll be stuck with a guy who was wearing the same shirt three days in a row."

"Fine," Tony caved –the purpose of this shopping trip wasn't to piss Steve off, it was to distract him. Tony thought on it for a moment, Steve's plaid shirts were button ups, so maybe a nice silk woven button up shirt? He wouldn't pop the collar, but it'd still be a nice form fitting ensemble, particularly in the shoulders. Tony switched to button ups, "Try these ones." He handed Steve two simple but flattering tops, one in navy blue, the other in a charcoal grey.

Steve accepted them gladly and disappeared into a change room. He buttoned the shirt up, watching his fingers carefully before lifting his head to see what it looked liked. He was fairly stunned; Tony's opinion in clothing was actually pretty good. He couldn't remember the last time he'd looked this sharp. Steve stepped out, finding it necessary to show Tony what he'd picked out, it's just what you did when someone else chose your clothing. "So... what do you think?" He felt his cheeks reddening and tried his damnedest to stop it.

Tony gave Steve a stone-faced appraisal, looking the nervous blonde up and down, and up again. After a moment's contemplation Tony came back with: "The charcoal really brings out the red in your cheeks." He cracked out in a wide grin, spreading from ear to ear, and laughed at Steve's expense. "It looks fantastic!" Tony assured him, clapping the taller man on the shoulder, "Very flattering, you look like a model." Tony was surprised at how true those words were –Steve Rogers could easily pull off a teen model role, even here in Paris. He had the perfect build, and the definition, and that well sculpted face with dazzling blue eyes and naturally blonde hair. Tony caught himself before he spent too long staring in a daze at Steve's immaculate form.

"You think so?" Steve let the blush go, knowing there was no stopping it at that point. It felt amazingly good to be complimented by someone like Tony, he'd always felt too... well, plain for the other teen to even bother. And clearly he usually was but in the right clothes that seemed to change. "They're comfortable, I like them." He was about to check the price but stopped, "No, I don't want to know. Nope. Not looking." It took talking himself through his habits to force himself to stop. "Blue's usually my colour and these shirts are similar, so can I stop trying stuff on now?" He asked with a slight pleading in his eyes.

Tony smiled, "Alright, we can stop."

So much time was spent getting Steve new clothes, Tony picking things out that the blonde absolutely refused to be seen in, Steve looking at styles the billionaire refused to buy for him. It was a battle of humble and reserved against flashy and arrogant. Flashy and arrogant won out most of it, Steve couldn't deny the gifts Tony was trying to give him, that and he needed clothes. Steve's camera turned and angled at Tony as he laughed softly, "There, now everyone in our class will know how pushy you are." He said jokingly, they both knew that everyone was well aware of that fact.

"Is that right?" Tony retorted in jest, lifting his camera, "Well everyone will know how you check yourself out in change room mirrors when you undress." Tony smirked mischievously. He may or may not have filmed Steve from under the change room door, but he'd never actually use the footage against the blonde, or at least that's what he told himself for the moment.

Steve's face flushed even darker than it had before, "How would you know that? I did not." He paused and furrowed his brow, "You pervert."

Tony smiled broadly, "No no, I'm a scientist. We call that sort of thing research."

"Uh huh." Steve raised an eyebrow sceptically, "Pervert."

As Steve played with his camera and poked a little fun at Tony there was a loud gurgling sound and Steve's face flushed a little, looking up suddenly from his camera with big pleading eyes, "I'm starving. The last thing I ate were those flight peanuts."

Tony's face cracked up as he burst out laughing, "Seriously?! You actually ate the _peanuts_?" They flew first class, like Tony always did, and his in-flight meal had been much more satisfying than a pack of peanuts. He supposed Steve was worried that he'd have to pay and denied the meal. "Alright you over grown puppy, let's get some food in you."

Steve smiled widely, "You know, if I had a tail it'd be wagging right now." He decided it was better to go along with the joke than get mad about it. Why should he be upset by being called a puppy? It was a kind of cute thought... Steve mentally slapped himself for that, what the hell was he doing? He and Tony hardly got along most of the time, just because they were a little closer on this trip didn't mean he could start fantasizing about it. Though that hadn't stopped his dreams the night before, had it? He did his best to ignore it, they were teammates on this project, they were working together and quite frankly he should keep it civilized regardless of whether they got along or not. That meant no serious fighting and no serious loving.

Finding an awesome eatery wasn't tough, most places were boasting about their amazing cuisine and there was no way Tony would let them go to anyplace other than a five star restaurant. It was already fairly late in the day and they weren't quite dressed for the occasion but money could get you into anything, Steve was starting to realize. It was odd, two young men going to a nice restaurant together, one of them paying for both. It looked like a date. The blonde did his best to ignore this fact and stared down at the menu, his brow furrowing slightly after a while. On a day that he'd ever gone to a fine restaurant in America, not something that happened often, he could hardly read the menu. This was entirely in French. He could read the menu even less.

Tony watched his classmate with amusement, observing the slight crinkle of his brow as he pretended to know what he was looking at. Tony had a hunch that Steve hadn't a clue how to read French, but he wouldn't dare offer assistance outright. Tony wondered how long it would take Steve to _ask Tony_ for help with the menu.

"I can't read any of this..." Steve finally said after pretending like he could understand what he was looking for. "I'm just going to point at a picture and hope for the best, is that okay?"

"You amaze me," Tony said with a slight huff, "After finally admitting that you can't read it –even when no one expected that you could, you still won't ask me for help." The smaller teen rose from his seat and walked around to Steve's side of the table, to get a look over the other boy's shoulder at the menu. Tony leaned in, further than he probably needed to, "Which one were you looking at? I'll translate it for you."

The blonde felt the heat return to his face and heard his heart thundering away in his chest. _'Keep it together, Steve. Don't react; breathe normal, that's it.'_ "Uh uhm... Th-this one." He stuttered and pointed one of them out, _'Real smooth, Rogers.'_ He could smell Tony, could feel his weight pressed against him and his eyes nearly fluttered shut. He snapped them back open when he forced his hormones back, keeping them at bay. _'Damn puberty! Gosh I wish it were over already...'_ Steve wanted to inhale a little deeper, lean his face against the other teen's and nuzzle gently. Of course that would be classified as creeping.

"Alright, you're just going by the pictures aren't you?" Tony glanced at Steve out of the corner of his eye, and saw the other boy's face was bright red. '_That might explain why it's so hot over here_,' Tony thought in passing. "The menu headings divide the appetizers, entrees, lunch specials, and desserts. I'll order an appetizer for us, so don't worry about that. You just select from these, so let's narrow it down. Do you want chicken, beef, or fish? And how exotic are you going to be with your meal, local or Americanized?"

Asking Steve what he wanted from the perspective of a basic meal was much simpler than dropping over-embellished descriptions of meals in front of him. Steak, rice, and steamed vegetables, once you translate and break down the sautéed and grilled to perfection descriptors, that's pretty much what you were left with.

Steve was pretty sure his face was going to set fire to the restaurant, or maybe just himself and Tony. But he ignored it to the best of his abilities. "Well I don't get to try French styled food all that often so local sounds fine to me, and uh..." He furrowed his brow and tried to guess his mood. He was hungry, that was his mood. Generally he wasn't picky but beef, he found, was often more filling. "I'll go with beef," he decided and glanced up at Tony again. The other teen's face was so close to his it nearly stole his breath, he was sure Tony wouldn't have missed the slight hitch but continued talking to avoid an awkward silence, should it try to settle in. "I'm not that picky so just about anything is fine."

Tony couldn't help the persistent smile all throughout dinner. It was like he'd managed to get Steve Rogers out on a date –not that he had wanted to. Steve was the bane of his high school existence, always the nag and mothering prick. But he was also one of the nicest guys Tony had ever met, sincere and helpful and concerned for everyone's well being. Tony was certain that if he'd just ask Steve for help, he'd be met with no reservations. Not that Tony Stark needed help with anything, especially not making friends, that wasn't even a question. But sitting across from Steve in this restaurant in Paris, having a normal conversation, Tony almost felt like there was something real between them.

"I know you have a lot of money and you don't mind spending it but you shouldn't throw it around like you do," Steve couldn't help but smile, trying to seriously lecture his classmate though his good mood was getting in the way. There was something about Tony, when they were getting along he was pretty great, a nice guy and really funny. Just, when they butted heads... Things could get ugly and heated and downright disastrous. Steve tried not to think about that.

"Ah, seriously?! You never stop with the nagging," Tony chuckled and took a sip from his wine –legal drinking age was 15 after all, and so far Steve hadn't jump at his throat over it. "Are you saying you want me to return all those clothes that we spent five hours selecting and just go with something cheap? What do you suggest I do with it?"

"Well if you wanted to return it I'd take it off right now, because it's your money that bought it. But honestly if I had that kind of wealth, well I don't know, I'd probably go to orphanages or hospitals and donate. Charity, all that, you know? You'd get just as much publicity I think, and you'd feel better about yourself."

Tony laughed, "You don't know the first thing about corporations and charity, do you? Stark Industries gives away millions annually to shelters and medical research. It doesn't make any one feel any better about anything, it's a tax write-off."

"I mean _you_, not Stark Industries. Volunteer; go do random acts of kindness. You're a genius; I bet you could come up with just about anything." Steve smiled and shrugged, "It might be cliché and entirely stupid for me to say it but I do believe it's true, money doesn't buy happiness Tony." His blue eyes dropped to the table for a moment as he thought about what he'd said, glancing back up seconds later, "Though it doesn't mean you have to be broke to know happiness either." There was something in his eyes that just suited him better than any hard glare he'd given the genius sitting across from him, compassion, understanding, and a hint of something that Tony wasn't sure he'd ever seen before.

Tony didn't know what to say to that. He'd heard it all before, from classmates or his father's employees, from counsellors and whomever else: 'money doesn't buy happiness.' It was repeated like a goddamn mantra to the point where it was practically meaningless. But Steve... he said it differently, and Tony just couldn't put his finger on it. It wasn't a scolding or an age-old truth when Steve said it; it was more like an offer or a promise. Tony decided to ignore it, he didn't know what to do with it, it didn't seem important, and so it could be compartmentalized and ignored.

Dinner had been a wondrous thing; Tony could hardly believe that he'd spent the last six months at the other teen's throat over group work. They got along so well when it was just the two of them, or maybe that was the novelty of travel subduing Steve's dislike, coupled with Tony's conscious effort to distract the other teen from his guilt and woes. Tony couldn't help but realize that he just didn't _do_ that for people, put them first and put in an effort for them. Who was Steve to him that he'd go out of his way to consciously spare the teen's feelings? Tony tried not to think about it, he was tired and suffering jet lag from the flight. Yeah, that was it.

"Let's head back to the hotel, I'm beat," Tony pushed back from the dinner table.

Steve nodded, "Good idea," he leaned back and stretched, a yawn escaping him then. It was tough to put his finger on exactly why but he had really enjoyed their evening, maybe it was the food, or the fact that it was free. Mostly though he knew it was the company, it was Tony that made the whole thing worth every second spent away from home. Steve closed his eyes for a moment and stood from the table, "Tony," he fidgeted and smiled up at the other teen, "Thank you, really. I had a great time today."

Tony beamed, "You're most welcome. I had a great time too, and this week's only just begun."


	4. Chapter 4

**Zafona's Note:**

**Hey thanks for reviewing guys and giving this story a shot :D Spread the word about it, tell your other reader friends XD Hope you enjoy this next chapter, must warn you there is smut ahead**

* * *

Steve kicked his shoes off and stretched, walking toward his bed with a smile, his camera still on and recording. He liked recording things, he was excited about watching it all later, seeing themselves and trying to catch things he'd missed in real life. He was even more excited about seeing the footage in a year or two. That kind of thing always interested him. "You can shower first." He sat down on the mattress and aimed the recording device Tony's way, watching the genius' every move.

"Yeah sure," Tony answered slowly, hesitantly. "You've really grown attached to that camera, huh?" Tony was looking at Steve, and then into the camera lens. He was no stranger to video recordings, he himself frequently on the news as a teen genius sensation or at an event with his father, albeit the latter of the two incidents was fairly rare. Tony removed his shirt and pants and discarded them on his bed before grabbing his toiletries.

"Maybe a little," The blonde smiled widely, "Do you have your computer with you? I could edit some of the footage for today." Steve offered, lifting his head from behind the camcorder, "You've done so much of this project already, I feel like I'm being carried through. I'm not bad at editing and you can fix my errors if you don't like it."

"Hm?" Tony paused, "Yeah, it's in my bag." The teen genius pointed to one of his many travel duffels. "Charger and adapter should be in there too. If you need a hand with it, I'll get to it when I'm done." Tony departed for the bathroom, leaving Steve to his own devices.

Steve watched in silence as Tony disappeared, only when the genius was actually gone did he finally exhale dramatically and dropped his head, "What am I doing?" He muttered before shutting the camera off.

* * *

"Rise and shine Steve!" Tony clapped his hands loudly after drawing open the curtains. "It's seven a.m. and we have places to be." Tony cruised around the room, packing a day bag consisting of video equipment, cell phone, and wallet. "You're an artsy type, and the gist of our European trip is art, so we're going to hit up the Louvre." Tony smirked at the drowsy teen, "Fun, right?"

Steve moaned softly and rolled over, his body shifting beneath the sheets, arching a little as he got comfy again. "Nnn..." he grunted in protest, blonde hair a mess on his head, blue eyes refusing to open.

Tony smirked, "Stubborn eh? Two can play this game." Tony hunched quickly and sprang, jumping onto Steve's bed and landing beside the sleepy teen with a heavy bounce before the angle of mattress tossed the genius onto Steve's back. "Get up!"

The blonde flinched and let out a profound 'oomph' when Tony's weight hit him. His eyes flitted open and he rolled over, staring up at the biggest, deepest eyes he'd ever seen. His heart fluttered nervously and he felt a slight stirring in places he'd rather be stricken useless for the remainder of the trip. He sat up and looked Tony over tiredly, noting for the first time that he'd never woken up with another guy in the room before, let alone another person in his bed. Part of him was praying he hadn't been doing anything in his sleep because he knew he'd never live it down. He also hoped that Tony hadn't turned either of the cameras on yet. He wasn't exactly photo friendly first thing in the morning, what with the mop on his head and everything. "The Louvre?" he yawned and stretched, his night shirt riding up with his arms, tongue falling out of his mouth for a few seconds before he relaxed again. "I thought we couldn't bring cameras in there?"

Tony smiled, a human Cheshire cat by now. "Has anyone ever told you that you're by far the most amusing person to watch sleep? I'm pretty sure your motor inhibitors are damaged or something," Tony tapped the side of Steve's head with his index finger, "Did you fall out of bed a lot as a child?" Tony hopped out of the bed and attended to the nightstand, retrieving the camcorder with its blinking red light.

Steve glared at the camcorder and then blushed darkly when he looked up at Tony. Those words didn't exactly inspire confidence in him. He wanted to ask what he did, he wanted to know exactly what Tony knew so he could at least not sit there and imagine the worst. But what if it had been that bad? What if he'd done that thing where he humped his pillow in his sleep because he denied himself release before bed and the dreams came? He didn't want to know and so he would not ask. However Tony's silly commentary didn't actually answer his question, though he didn't need it answered because he knew. "We can't bring cameras in there..."

Tony's smile took on that mischievous quality once more, "Can't and won't are two very different things."

When did Tony Stark ever follow the rules? Sneaking cameras in was apparently on the agenda, having them on and hidden somewhere on their persons was part of the plan. And of course getting into the Louvre wasn't easy, unless you were rich and famous. Both of which Tony was, so they hadn't had to wait in the huge line up of people, at the very least.

Steve fidgeted nervously as they walked past security, his excitement and anxiety wrapping him up into a jittery ball of twitching this way and that. He felt like a weird bird, everything that caught his attention he'd snap his gaze on it, then again when something else won him over. It was ridiculous but he wanted to see everything at once. "Oh my gosh..." he managed to breathe at least.

"Easy," Tony tried calming his teammate, bringing a hand up between Steve's shoulder blades as if to steady the boy. "You look like you're going to go into a seizure." Tony was a smooth operator, and smuggling in illegal technological devices into an internationally renowned historical art museum fazed him about as much as breathing did. He was as casual as he'd ever been, and trying to keep Steve from looking like he'd murdered someone was more of a battle than getting past security had been. Smuggling was a lesser law to be broken, and not all laws are equal –Steve was a little more black and white than Tony, but they'd made it.

Steve nearly made the most embarrassing sound of his life when Tony's hand touched him; in fact he was pretty sure half of it came out. A moaned whine mixed with his anxiety of possibly being a minor criminal and the pent up frustrations from the last night and that morning, Tony's touch wasn't something he had expected, not at all. He swallowed nervously and tried to nod his head, hoping he could cover that up just as quickly as it had slipped out. "I just... I've never done something like this before and this place is... well I really want to see it and I can't if we..." He wasn't sure what he was saying, if they get caught he couldn't actually see the Louvre and the paintings, and their project would be a bust and it'd just be a mess over all. Yeah, that was why he'd made that sound.

Tony was actually startled, and thought for a moment that he may have hurt Steve. He pulled his hand away quickly, unsure of what had just happened. Steve had done his customary flubbering after, his face a bright red, and Tony realized he was trying to cover for that inhuman squawk of fear. "Okay, that was just freaky."

"Shut up." Steve warned quickly, trying his hardest to forget it had happened at all. Instead he hurried through the halls, wanting to capture as much as he could before they were dragged out and arrested for breaking the museum's rules.

"OH I can't believe I'm here!" Steve cried out in pure excitement as he finally let go of his anxiety over the stupid camera. The thing was safely recording from his bag, everything perfectly set up by Tony so they wouldn't be thrown out for using cameras in the first place. At that moment the blonde was completely lost in himself and the artwork around him, he was pointing out different works that he remembered researching though the Louvre had more than enough to leave him totally baffled. He spun around and caught the genius' arm, pulling the other teen into a hug and unconsciously burying his face against the dip in Tony's neck. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" He nearly squealed with joy, not really able to say anything further than that.

Tony's arms were thrown out wide with Steve nestled to his chest and neck. Tony's eyes were huge with shock and he stood almost paralytic while his mind raced to catch up with the event. He placed his arms around Steve in a hug, almost without thinking –almost. Tony could hardly remember his last hug, and he wondered if that was normal for teens his age. The feeling of Steve's warm breath no his neck sent chills racing down his spine, and Tony's eyes fluttered shut as his mind tried to will himself out of dwelling on it. "Y-you're welcome," _was that a stutter?_ Tony Stark did not stutter, he did not stammer, he spoke clearly and concisely and quickly with deliberate intentions. Steve was doing something, something unseen and invasive and Tony wasn't sure he liked it.

It was hard to notice the stiffness in Tony's response, the awkward return of his hug because Steve was far too excited to really think about it. He nuzzled their cheeks together, still smiling like an idiot, "I have no idea how I'm going to repay you for this but I will, I promise!"

Tony's face flushed into a hot blush as his cheek glided by Steve not once, but repeatedly. A full body hug, and such intimate connection... '_Fuck it, you only live once_.' Tony gave Steve a quick squeeze and tapped his shoulder to get the teen to turn his face toward him. It was only seconds, Steve faced him, and Tony leaned in. Their lips brushed past one another in a hesitant first attempt before Tony tentatively gripped the back of Steve's head, entwining his fingers in the teen's fine blonde hair, and kissing him good and long.

Steve moaned into the kiss, his body complacent for a moment, letting Tony do with him as he pleased. His arms around the slighter teen's frame relaxed, hands holding just a little tighter, feeling the shifting body there. He hadn't known how to react to the first little touch of their lips, it'd sent sparks all throughout his body, a fire roiling in his belly, turning over and over, getting even warmer as it spread throughout him. He groaned a little louder, needier, as his hands found purpose in their touch.

They broke apart, and Tony came up short of breath, "Consider it repaid."

Steve's eyes skated hotly over Tony's face, down to his lips then back to the smoldering brown eyes. He licked his lips in the hopes he'd get the taste back but it wasn't good enough. The blonde took over for another kiss then, his hold on Tony shifting to one closer to dominance, holding him and tilting him back, the smaller male's body letting him easily. He wanted to touch more, to _be_ touched more, something to ease the fire in him, to cool down the heat or at least share in it. But the fact that they were in public was a little more real when a security guard chuckled and cleared his throat.

"Not allowed to do that in here, boys."

Steve straightened them up, "Sorry sir, won't happen again." He blushed deeply and looked over at Tony, trying not to smile as much as he was. What was that? He had no idea but he wanted more of it. "We uh... we have something to..." He motioned toward the paintings further down the hall.

Tony was speechless, "R-right, yeah." He fell in step beside Steve unconsciously, his mind wandering. He thought that he was shooting himself in the foot with that one. He'd admired Steve these past few days, his smile, his physique; hell, Tony had made a very conscious note of those shoulders months ago when he was cornered behind the school. '_He likes me_,' Tony concluded somewhat mystified. "For the record, that was hot."

"Tony," Steve sounded completely calm as he spoke, "I think you just invented a new shade of red," he glanced over and his cheeks were indeed brighter than they had been all day. "But yeah, it was." Steve smiled shyly and looked ahead; he wanted to take Tony's hand but thought that might be pushing it. _'It'd be really nice though...'_ He figured he might be more sentimental than Tony, that that kind of thing pleased him more than the other boy. Best not make Tony uncomfortable.

Tony chuckled to himself, quietly at first, and then it grew to a full laugh, "Damn that security guard! Damn him all to hell! Can you imagine? Sex in the Louvre? How many things are we doing that we could get kicked out for." Tony anticipated another bashful shying away from Steve. No matter how hot and bothered Steve got, he still got embarrassed by the notion of sex.

And he was right because Steve did in fact turn his head away, the colour not fading even a little bit. "Tony, shhh." He scolded softly, "Don't talk about that so loudly, they might actually think we're doing something wrong or worth booting us over." He couldn't stop smiling despite his words and tone, it was a nice thought, having sex in the Louvre, but he could never bring himself to say it out loud.

They walked together and did what they had planned on doing for their project; all the while Steve stole glances and checked out what had caught his interest. He cursed his hormones and the damned thing called puberty that refused to allow him control over the dastardly things. But he wanted that. He wanted all of that arrogance and self-serving pressed beneath him, just for a little while.

"Hungry?" Steve asked after he felt the familiar rumbling in his stomach, partially surprised it managed to trump his perverse brain functions. That one pizza pop commercial was kind of right, 'he was thinking about girls, stomach', it had been stupid when he saw it but apparently advertisers knew the male brain fairly well. One thing conquered the thought process and apparently food was beating out sexual desire. He was okay with this. "I kind of... could probably eat a small horse." He laughed to himself, making sure his camera was still hidden.

"Hmm?" Tony brought his mind back around –the paintings were boring, and feigning interest was only possible in that an interested person would stare for long periods on end. Tony could stare, and have his mind dwell on Steve for long periods on end. Dwell on all of that muscle and sexual frustration, on that blissful and blistering kiss, and on the way Steve just _took_. "Food sounds good. I'd say I know a place but ahh," Tony looked around the halls of the Louvre as though they represented the greater portion of France, "I obviously don't."

Steve laughed and took Tony's hand, ignoring the heat in his face as he did so, "You don't need to know a place, we'll go and find one. They're all over, come on." The dark red shade on his cheeks had died down significantly, now just a warm pinkish colouring as he led his friend along toward the exit.

Tony's brain nearly exploded –hand holding. This was a realm of intimacy that he rarely, if ever, treaded. Things weren't just getting hot, they were getting serious. Tony hardly knew what to do or say, this was far beyond friendship, and they hadn't even broached that subject in conversation yet. He gripped Steve's hand back, letting the teen know he wasn't just a limp fish, "Then let's find a place."

* * *

Tony sat across from Steve on the outdoor veranda of one of many infamous Paris cafes, enjoying his overpriced lunch and French baguette. "Did you want to spend more time in the hotel room this afternoon? I don't want us to run ourselves too ragged with this new exposure thing, not to mention we didn't make it through all of the video footage from yesterday. There's a pool and hot tub, we could just... hang out, maybe watch a movie after.

Steve nodded, his mouth more than a little full. Tony had been completely right on the account of 'you _will_ be hungry later'. He was starving. He'd run himself down to the minimalistic amount of fuel he had left, his energy burning through everything. He'd been so excited and nervous all at once that his adrenaline ate up a lot of his energy. Food was the logical fuel for him and quite frankly he'd stuffed his mouth too much to be able to answer properly. So a nod would have to do to answer Tony's question until he swallowed. "That sounds like a good idea, we were all over the shopping areas yesterday and today we've spent most of the day in the Louvre, if I get any more excited I'm going to pass out." He laughed and went back to his lunch.

"Tomorrow I think we should travel to Rome and the Vatican, see some of the really interesting things. That's where most of the really good architecture is, where Michael Angelo's real masterpieces are, Sistine Chapel and all that. What do you think, Steve?"

The other teen nearly dropped his fork, mouth hanging open as his mind registered what had just been said to him. "Rome?" he whispered with wide eyes, "You're kidding? You're going to take me to the Vatican?" His slack-jawed expression quickly flipped up into an open-mouthed smile, "Oh my gosh YES!" He felt like a small child who was just offered a trip to Disneyland. Of course, he'd probably still react the same way to that kind of trip; he'd never been to Disneyland either. "Yes yes yes!"

Tony smiled brightly, more than pleased with himself. Steve was nowhere close to being that glum, angry teen who was letting down his mother by not making it to family dinner. Steve was in Europe, touring the Louvre, and practically vibrating out of his seat with joy at the prospect of visiting the Vatican. It seemed like a no-brainer to anyone else, but to Tony it was an epiphany: he'd never realized just how much of a difference it made in others if you did things for them instead of for himself. This trip to Europe had been entirely self-centered on his part, he wanted to travel during reading week and get away. He'd been prepared to bribe whomever necessary to ensure that he went, and his lies only made Steve angry, caused him to miss something important. Now Tony was trying to make this good, make this _right_, and Steve was having a blast. This was by far the best worst idea he'd ever had.

* * *

Steve walked into the hotel room and stretched, he was so glad he'd been paranoid enough to pack swimming trunks. He knew Tony would get them a hotel with a pool and he knew the genius would suggest swimming. So he had packed appropriately, you never know when you just want to relax in a pool and honestly he hardly ever had the chance to do so in a hotel so why not spoil himself a little bit?

'_We could just hang out, maybe watch a movie after.'_ Wait a second. Steve had to back track on that thought, had Tony been trying to set it up like a date? No. He'd said hang out, specifically not a 'dating' kind of phrase. And he wasn't sure if that thought upset him or relieved him. _'It is what it is.'_ Steve decided and went fishing for his trunks in his bag, finding the blue pair pretty easily; nothing else was made of the same material. "So Rome, you know how to get there?" He asked, glancing over his shoulder and heading toward the bathroom to get changed, pausing in the doorway. It was always best to secure your changing location first, never know what kind of weird things a Stark might do. Or so he told himself anyway. "Is there a train or are we flying? Driving?" He kind of hoped it was a train, he'd never been on a train before.

"Train," Tony replied evenly. "Almost all forms of transport are ground here in Europe. Or ferry, but we're not going to England tomorrow." The smaller teen tossed his shirt and pants onto the bed, scrounging around in his many bags while trying to recall which one he'd packed his swim trunks in. "I already have our train tickets, so don't worry about that. We just need to get on the right one."

Seeing Tony strip down without a thought caught Steve by surprise, "Uh, right." He stammered, a vibrant flush colouring his cheeks as he remembered the feeling from earlier, the museum and the kiss and the touching. He smiled and touched his lips, disappearing into the bathroom and removing his clothes, quickly pulling on the trunks. He was about to go swimming with Tony. After such a wonderful day and... that moment they had shared... He couldn't stop blushing and thinking about it now. He'd been distracted with food and the Vatican that he was a little overwhelmed with information.

Steve walked out of the bathroom with a towel over his arm, feeling a little exposed though no more so than he had when Tony had been in his room the other morning. He looked the slender frame over and tried to remind himself to breathe normally. "Tony I..." he found himself breathless anyway and was well aware of how obvious it was. "You're uh... you look good." He rubbed the back of his neck nervously and offered an awkward smile. _'Oh, you like him now? Alright, time to switch on seriously awkward teen mode. Activated.'_ He thought miserably.

Tony raised an eyebrow. That was a compliment based on an observation. Steve Rogers was checking him out in his swim trunks. Tony felt a bolstering of pride at that, and with pride came confidence. He crossed the distance between himself and Steve in a few short strides, coming to a stop inches in front of the taller teen. Tony placed a hand to Steve's bare chest, feeling the increased rise and fall of it, dragging flesh across flesh, pausing to pinch Steve's hardened nipple. "Do you really want to leave all of this tension unattended while we spend the next hour together half naked with our wet trunks clinging to our bodies? It sounds torturous."

Steve's breath caught in his throat and he whined from the sudden touch, his reaction to Tony nearly immediately obvious. "Oh god..." he could hardly form words but when he did apparently he decided to curse, and it was the wimpiest sound he'd ever made. For a few seconds he revelled in the feeling, getting his mind around what was going on, what was about to happen, trying to focus on more than just the other teen's fingers pinching at his skin and getting even more intimate.

In seconds Steve lifted Tony up, pressing their bodies together as he carried the other male to one of the two beds, neither was really paying attention to which one. Steve kissed along his partner's jaw and started in on the brunette's soft neck, nipping and sucking at the skin there. Tony gasped and wrapped his legs around Steve's waist, thighs clenched along the other's chiselled waist and heels digging into toned muscle. He could feel Steve's body shifting against him as the blonde walked across the room, strong arms supporting Tony's weight easily, hands exploring when they wanted to. Their lips were locked again, both moaning into like teens in heat, which they technically were.

Steve pressed Tony onto the bed, his weight holding the other boy down, moving against him as Tony thrust up into Steve's abdomen. They writhed along one another, greedily finding every bit of friction they could as they ravaged one another's mouths, gasping and panting, scratching and groping with every little bit of energy they had. Tony moaned and whimpered when Steve got a little bolder, his hand rubbing insistently at the aching erection pressing against the slick fabric of Tony's trunks. "Oh god, Steve." The billionaire gasped, his hips bucking up into the touch, feverish kisses along the larger teen's jaw.

Steve's hands slid along the smooth nearly silky skin of Tony's sides again, fingers hooking into the lip of the trunks and working them down. He wanted this, he needed this touch and he was going to take it. Tony wanted it too, he was moaning and nearly begging for it, hips never laying still, fingers grasping through Steve's hair like he'd find all his pleasure there.

After a moment Steve had caught sight of his prize, eyes lighting up in lust and desire as he leaned in closer to Tony's cock. He blew on the moistened tip a little, loving the tiny squeak he earned for it, the genius' thighs trembling and spreading just a little wider for him. Steve couldn't believe he was doing this but he decidedly ignored his brain. Shutting it down wasn't too difficult considering how much blood had left it for other things, he didn't want to take away from the physical. Steve was very capable of thinking his way out of an erection and backing off from the sexual act. But he didn't want to, not this time. Tony's touch was something he needed, he craved it more and more, his hands were all over the place, stroking up Tony's thighs and hips, behind him and caressing the swell of his back to his butt but not quite daring to go much further, not yet.

Steve wasn't letting himself think about it and just went for it, he wet his lips and wrapped them around the engorged flesh, suddenly having a new favourite flavour added to his general likes. He was surprised he liked it so much, a soft groan rumbling in his throat. Tony, in the meantime, was moaning loudly from the added pressure, the warm, wet pressure on his dick was enough to drive him wild. Who knew Steve Rogers could get so dirty? To give a blow job before declaring relationship status, very unlike him but definitely hot.

Steve started slowly, his tongue working along the shaft and taking in as much as his throat would allow. To his surprise he didn't gag even a little bit. Or, at least not until Tony got a bit excited and his hips bucked up. Steve gripped Tony's sides and held them down, lapping at the sensitive head for a moment, swirling his tongue along the foreskin gently before taking it in again.

"Fuck..." Tony gasped, pinning his shoulders into the bed. He'd gotten blow jobs before, had had sex before, but somehow with the pure and innocent blonde down between his legs, he was acting like a virgin all over again. "God... Steve..."

Steve moaned on him again, the rumble in his throat adding the extra little bits of pleasure to each sucking motion. His tongue massaged up and down a little faster, reacting to Tony's sounds, his body language, the little soft pleadings that the genius probably would have preferred Steve never hear. It was all a lot more intimate and intense than he would have predicted, and he enjoyed every fleeting second of it. With every bob of his head his body leaned forward and then back again, he could feel the hardened bulge in his trunks pressing helplessly against his trunks, demanding it be let free. He ignored it, hands sliding along Tony's legs again, more accustomed to the jerky thrusting of the other teen's hips as Tony squirmed uselessly.

"Steve... Oh! Ah! Ah ah ah ah Steve! _Steve_!" Long fingers gripped the blonde's hair and pulled, groped, and fisted, eliciting a soft sound of pleasure from Steve as he quickened his pace. It was moments later his mouth was more full than it had been, hot seed splashing at the back of his throat and filling his cheeks. Tony couldn't help the snap up of his lower body, he knew he'd choke Steve if he kept it up but the other teen was surprisingly good at it, continuing to suck him through his orgasm instead of backing off right away, massaging him right back down until he was soft again. "Ohhh..." Tony rolled his head back and relaxed, legs falling limp around Steve's shoulders. "God, Steve... You are amazing..."

Steve lifted his head, cum and saliva stringing from his lips to the limp flesh of Tony's groin. He could feel the cooling wetness on his chin and still dripping down from his mouth. He'd swallowed as much as he could though quite a bit spilled out before he was able to really comprehend what to do with it. The taste of Tony was all over and he found that he might not even mind drowning in it. "Thanks," he finally responded in a whisper, a little distracted as he wiped his mouth and jaw, "I've uh... I've seen a few... you know..." his cheeks were stained pink as he crawled higher on the bed and started kissing the other teen again, part of him wanting to share the new flavour he'd discovered, another part just wanting that closeness again.

Tony smirked into the kiss and continued to work his hands through the blonde mop of hair that he'd already thoroughly messed up. "You watch porn?" he asked with mock surprise.

"Yeah," Steve muttered into another kiss, getting more and more distracted as his body pressed down against Tony's, his legs trembling slightly as he tried to slow his excitement. Tony lifted a knee to push up against Steve's waiting arousal, loving the surprised gasp breathed against his skin, loving Steve's whimpering and eager humping even more. The blonde pressed down against Tony's leg over and over, his dick painfully hard, to the point that Steve was softly begging and pleading. It was almost incoherent but Tony could make it out, _"Please... Tony please... touch me..."_

"You're friskier than I thought," Tony whispered into Steve's burning ear, the blonde whining quietly for a firmer grasp on him, and once Tony had his trunks off and discarded to the side of the room, he got it. Strong fingers wrapped around him dextrously, getting to know the throbbing vein and leaking head intimately.

Steve bit back a louder moan, forcing it down with great difficulty as he bucked into Tony's hand, the friction and pressure on his was taking his control away faster and faster.

"Don't hold back, Steve," Tony whispered, kissing down the strained neck of his partner, "I want you loud, can you do that?"

Steve nodded as he panted against Tony's skin, the sweetest sound the genius had ever heard. At least, before Steve really let go that is. The larger male cried out louder with each stroke, his eyes firmly closed and mouth open in pleasure. "More..." He gasped weakly, "Oohhhhhhh Tony..." The way he dragged out his words, the ache and desperation clinging to each syllable was palpable and Tony was starting to feel a warm twitch in his loins again. Why was Steve so freaking perfect? And cute?

"Fuck," Tony breathed heavily, rolling the blonde onto his back and propping himself up for a better angle, looking down at the fully erect and weeping cock he had his hand on. So pretty, so eager, this was Steve's first time if Tony had to guess. Every little nerve was on fire, every inch of Steve's body was begging for more stimulation, more of Tony's touch, he just wanted everything. "You're greedy, you know that?" The genius laughed softly, watching how Steve's back arched and toes curled into the fabric of the sheets. "Just gorgeous."

Tony licked and sucked on his free fingers, slicking them before reaching over again, one wet digit circling the tight anus of his partner. Steve's breathing hitched and the muscles near Tony's finger tightened just a little further. "Tony?" The blonde gasped though it was dragged into another long and needy moan as Tony gave another firm stroke, thumb trailing over the foreskin gently, teasing for a moment.

"Relax," The brunette insisted and for a moment Steve listened, loving the touch and even the little burn of a finger pressing further against his entrance. He'd never put anything near there, the sensation was new and tingling all over. But it was all getting to be too much too fast, he whined and whimpered as he squirmed beneath Tony's hands, thrusting up into the other teen's fist. The length of just one of Tony's fingers was a strange feeling; part of Tony was _in_ him, they were closer than touching, it was so much closer, so much more intimate.

Steve tensed when he felt a second finger prodding at him and he had to protest, "No, Tony wait." He gasped and struggled a little, trying to regain his mind as the other teen worked him up toward insanity. "Please, that's too much."

"Sorry, I should've stretched it a bit more-"

"No, I mean it's too much too soon." Steve looked at him sheepishly, an embarrassed flush to his cheeks that could only serve in making him more irresistible than he already was. But Tony listened.

"Alright," The brunette smiled, hiding his disappointment. Fucking Steve Rogers would have been the highlight of the trip for sure. But he wasn't a creep and he wasn't a rapist, if Steve was uncomfortable with their speed when he was in _this_ state, of begging and pleading and needing more, then he was truly uncomfortable with their speed. "Relax, I've got you."

Steve nodded and laid his head back again, closing his eyes and letting his mind relax and focus on the sensations. It didn't take long to get him back in the swing of it, Tony paid closer attention to the way Steve's body reacted, the subtle little ways it begged silently for a little more, for a longer straying hand on it. It was nice to hear the blonde let go, hear that normally reserved voice gasping and pleading and moaning loudly. The way Steve said his name was enticing and endearing, his hands flimsily groping at the sheets and Tony's side, looking for something to hold onto, hoping to find something to ground him as he felt like he'd fly away any moment.

The soft whimpering became a little more panicked as Steve was overtaken by feelings he was entirely unaccustomed to. He whined and shook, frantic hands finding Tony and holding on tightly, the brunette smiling and whispering soft reassurances, "It's okay Steve, I've got you," he was surprised that Steve was so new to it, how often did the boy deny himself release? Or maybe Steve was one of the types that got so worked up that he couldn't finish himself off properly because his hands would stop responding. Judging by the way Steve was no longer coherent and his body reacted uselessly to his brain, Tony would put money on that last one.

Whimpering, whining and shaking suddenly broke into a loud cry bordering on a scream. Steve thrust up one more time before his body trembled and shook with the weight of an orgasm he hadn't been entirely ready for. Tony grinned, still working Steve through it, not letting up until the other's cries died down to moans, and until the moans fell silent. He looked down at the white mess all over his hands and noted that it spurted out pretty far; apparently Steve had some range with this thing. "Wow," Tony breathed softly and leaned over to kiss Steve's cheek, the blonde's entire body coated in a sheen of sweat, his chest rising and falling comfortably slow. "You really are something else."

"Mm..." Steve reached up and lazily pulled Tony down to the bed with him, nuzzling their faces together as he struggled to open his heavy eyelids. "You are too."

They shared another kiss, this one slower and less likely to bruise either of them. Steve's eyes fell closed again and he nuzzled up against Tony, the blonde was dozing lightly in seconds.

* * *

After waking properly and rinsing off in the shower, they finally made it down to the pool, there were no others in there at that time, just the two of them and Steve became more and more aware of his teammate the more he realized they were alone. He knew Tony could be quite devious and if the brunette had his way they may end up doing naughty things in the hotel pool. Best not to think about it, and if it came up he'd have to find the will power to say no. So he instead of driving himself crazy with the thought of 'what's Tony going to do' he looked up at the waterslide, noting that of course Tony would pick the place with the most entertaining toys. "Wow." He exclaimed softly before hurrying to the stairs, doing his best to focus on the slide and not what Tony would look like with those trunks wet and clinging mercilessly to his legs.

Tony smiled, "Wow is one word for it." The now overtly lazy teen strolled over to the hot tub and slipped into the soothing hot water, wasting no time in flipping the jets on. Sex had been good, or sexually messing around with Steve minus intercourse, had been good. They would have to have a talk soon, Tony could just feel it. But in the mean time he would enjoy it while it lasted, and relax.

"Tony! Tony watch!" He called from the top of the waterslide, excitement catching him like a child, he'd never been down a waterslide before and it was the coolest thing ever in that moment.

"What? What?" Tony yelled back with mock urgency. He pivoted in the tub and scanned the area for Steve, catching sight of the vibrant teen at the top of the stairs.

Once Steve had his friend's attention he threw himself down. He was aware the water was cold and full submergence was the best way to go about getting himself into it. There was nothing worse than slowly walking around as the cold water splashed and licked at the warm and dry skin. He let out a sharp cry from the sudden splash on his backside when it touched it, though he was happily distracted by the echo in the tunnelled slide.

Steve burst out at the end and floundered around until he popped back up, gasping and muttering things that could have been his version of 'fuck that's cold'. His eyes found Tony after and he gave a big grin, "Did you see?"

Tony couldn't help the smirk that crept over his lips, Steve was something else. From an angry hard ass to a bubbly child, and somewhere in-between Tony had also discovered a dirty, horny teen. "Yeah, I saw." Tony wondered how many other people knew so many different sides of Steve Rogers, and for perhaps the first time seriously considered that there may be something more between them.

The evening wore on and an outsider may have mistaken Steve and Tony for boyfriends of several months. The teens retired from the pool, playfully teasing one another up the elevator and back into their hotel room. After a shared shower (at Tony's prompting) they had retired to the one clean bed to relax and watch a hotel rental movie. Tony fell asleep within the first hour of the film, resting comfortably against Steve's side.

Steve adjusted his partner comfortably, letting Tony lay on his lap instead, hand brushing through the soft brown hair lazily as he watched the film. This had been one of the better days of his young life, he was pretty sure.


	5. Chapter 5

**Zafona's Notes:**

**Thank you for all the reviews guys XD Hope we don't disappoint in the near future ;)**

* * *

Tony's eyes fluttered open as the sun's rays shone over his face. In a distant corner of the room he could hear the persistent beep of his cell phone. Tony yawned lazily and stretched his arms out, accidentally bumping the teen next him. "Ooops," Tony looked to his side, finding Steve still asleep, one long muscled arm draped over the smaller teen. Tony nearly blushed at the memory –they had a thing, there was no denying the existence of this thing of theirs, and they had yet to define it. Maybe they wouldn't ever define it; maybe they'd slip into something comfortable without a word.

Tony's attention was dragged back to the room by the incessant electronic beeping, and then his eyes widened drastically at the realization. "Oh fuck!" He cursed loudly, springing from the bed and darting across the room.

Steve flinched and opened his eyes, the sudden loud burst from the other teen was more than enough to wake him. "What? What happened?" He sat up trying to be just as urgent though he failed when he started to yawn and stretch instead of getting out of bed.

"It's ten a.m.! We missed the train!" Tony threw his phone against the headboard of the second bed in frustration; the device dented the board and fell onto the mattress below. "Goddamn it, I'm sorry Steve, we'll catch a later one."

"Oh." Steve furrowed his brow, remembering how excited he'd been about going to the Vatican, to Rome in general. "That's... it's okay, Tony. Don't worry about it." He smiled a little, trying not to look disappointed.

Tony felt horrible about the time, knowing how much Steve was looking forward to Rome and the Vatican. "Or maybe..." Tony's eyes lit up at the thought, "We can rent a car. That would be faster than the train ride anyway. I'll drive, and arrange a drop off in Rome. We can stay a night, take all day tomorrow to sight see and work on the project, and then take the Artesia Night train back, so you can still experience that too. Do you think that would work?"

"That sounds fine," Steve smiled happily but something nagged at the back of his head. Take a day. Those words tugged at his mind until he finally asked, "What day is it?"

Tony had to pause to think about it, "Well we left on Tuesday, shopped on arrival, went to the Louvre the day after, so that would make it Thursday." Tony rummaged through his bag, finding the spare batteries for the cameras and replacing them. He put the dead ones on the wall charger and asked, "Why does it matter what day it is?" Tony knew it mattered, knew about the important family thing, but he also knew that he wasn't supposed to know.

"Thursday?" Steve repeated quietly, his heart dropping and the look of despair a little more than obvious on his face. He no longer felt a reason to hide from Tony so he didn't. Steve sat back on the bed and looked down at the floor for a moment, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, his mind working overtime to keep him from over thinking. But that in and of itself defeated the purpose.

"Steve?" Tony queried, growing a bit more concerned. He wasn't sure what Steve's family thing was; in fact he didn't understand why that event was so important. Family would still be there when Steve got back; a free trip to other parts of the world wasn't a repeat occurrence, he should enjoy himself in the moment and not fret over missed time. But that's not what Tony said, because that's not what was socially acceptable. When that had become important to him, Tony didn't know, but it had to have something to do with Rogers. "Are you okay Steve?"

"I'm fine," the blonde tried to sound reassuring but his voice started to break, "I just... today was..." he felt a hot tickle tracking down his face and he wiped it away, only to find another and another. Steve sobbed and covered his mouth, giving up on wiping his eyes free of tears. "I'm sorry," he wheezed through shaky breaths.

"You don't have anything to be sorry for," Tony answered quickly, standing awkwardly on the other side of the room, one-hundred percent unsure of what to do in emotional situations like this one. His father had always told him to 'man up' and shut up. Tears were for the weak, and so many people had it a lot worse off. Comfort was a foreign thing, and Tony had about as much practice giving it as he had receiving it. "Did you ah, want to talk about it?" Tony edged closer to Steve, finally taking a seat on the bed next to the teen.

"M-my dad... a-a-a few years ago today he-he..." Steve tried stuttering through his fit though his harsh breathing didn't let him get very far, another wrecked sob taking the place of words and he gave up, clinging to Tony and holding on tightly.

Tony's mind was whirring around with the new tid bit of information – the dinner had something to do with Steve's dad, but he was only talking to his mother. It seemed like a schism in his mind, the difference between his thoughts and his emotions. Inwardly he was a regular Sherlock Holmes, piecing together a puzzle. Outwardly he was a failure of an emotional support for his broken down and distraught friend. Tony tried to hide his shock and surprise over Steve's outburst,for it by quickly returning the hug. He was grateful that Steve couldn't see his expressions and clueless look in his eyes. Tony rubbed small soothing circles on Steve's back, mentally praying to a deity he didn't believe in that this episode would end soon. "Hey, hey, hey, it's ok. It's been years since you could do anything about it," _I'm definitely not winning an award for this one_, Tony mentally berated himself. "It's just a day, like any other day. Your life's none the worse for it, you should be living it up –happily. So let's get going, and get your mind on to something else."

Steve slowly calmed down, realizing how uncomfortable he was making Tony, it was more than evident in his voice. They hadn't decided what they were to one another yet, they hadn't said anything like that. As far as he knew, Tony considered it a fling and he was being way too open. Steve retracted, wishing he could take back the breakdown but knew there was no way he could. "Sorry..." he said again and wiped his eyes, this time with more success. He ignored the ache in his chest to the best of his ability and smiled sadly at Tony, fighting to keep his jaw from trembling. "For making this so weird for you. I... I won't do it again. I appreciate your trying to comfort me, thank you." He felt like he should explain himself, that he was far from home, missed his mom, missed his dad, and was so uncertain about so many things. But that might just make things even more strange between them and he really didn't want to ruin anything he had with Tony.

Tony couldn't help but feel a like a failure. Steve had truly opened up to him, had bore his heart and pain and Tony was as clueless as a newborn what to do with it. Inside he was defensive: how was he supposed to know what to do, or how to act? He never received comfort from anyone –his mother was dead, and his father couldn't seem to care less. Tony didn't mope about it, didn't mourn it years later. But he supposed that was one of the many differences between him and Steve. Tony forced a reassuring smile, "Don't worry about it; I'm fine and so are you."

"Let's uh... Let's get going then, long trip to Rome, right?" Steve did his best to brighten up, his dad wouldn't want him to mar his first international trip, wouldn't want him to cry and hide inside. He should do this, if not for himself then because his dad never got the chance to.

"A long trip indeed," Tony agreed, and did his best not to think about Steve's breakdown any more.

* * *

Tony was certain that Steve Rogers had never been passenger to a driver quite like himself. Even in a foreign country, driving on the wrong side of the road, Tony was skilled behind the wheel –if not terrifying.

Steve gripped the seat, his face pulled tight in worry, "Tony slow down, you're gonna kill us." He muttered stiffly.

"Don't be such a worry wart, I'm not going to get us killed," Tony punched the accelerator, expertly weaving through traffic. The city hadn't been so easy to navigate, but once outside it was easy sailing. "We'll be there in no time, you know, as much as 13 hours can be considered 'no time,' but I'm sure I can shave some time off of that." Tony grinned at the thought, and pushed the car a little faster.

"Right." The blonde closed his eyes as they swerved past another car, he wanted to ask if Tony was trying to be funny and get Steve killed on the same day his dad had died but that wasn't a conversation either of them wanted, so he kept it to himself. It was just his panic that was trying to prevail here and he wasn't going to let it. No sir.

"Since we're sitting here for the next several hours, I guess we can get to talking," Tony needed to broach the subject –a simple slide into an unknown relationship status just wasn't going to fly. "What are we doing, exactly. I mean, what are 'we'?" Tony peered to his left through his designer shades at Steve sitting in the passenger seat.

This was a serious conversation and Steve was well aware that it was necessary; in fact he welcomed its distraction from everything else. "We are..." He repeated the words, his mind swirling around the meaning of 'we', what that meant he was, if it changed him in any way. He and Tony had gotten incredibly intimate the other day and the memory of it made him blush. Steve looked over at Tony and looked the teen up and down, trying to get a read on him. What did Tony want them to be? Was he looking for an easy 'I just wanted a quickie and I hope you aren't involved'? No, that kind of question wasn't asked by the person who was looking for a way to escape. Tony was looking for something more.

Steve smiled at his problem solving skills and confidently looked at the brunette, "It's hard to answer that question the way you asked it, but I'll see if I can. From where I'm sitting, I'd say we are Tony and Steve."

"Is that supposed to be clever?" Tony shot back with a chuckle. "I also asked 'what are we doing.'"

Steve laughed, "Seriously though," he looked down at himself for a moment, his smile softer as he dared glance up again, "I really like you, Tony. If... If you're okay with it, can I..." he fidgeted nervously and forced himself to get over his ridiculous fears, "Can I be your boyfriend?" The words themselves were tough to say, he wasn't sure how he was going to break this to his mother or if he would at all. But he'd cover that later if it came up. Right now he needed an answer from Tony.

Tony had his scepticism about Steve turning around in three days from his number one enemy to his boyfriend, but this was high school and everything was fast and dramatic, so why the hell not. "You _can_ be my boyfriend, but my question to you is _will_ you be?" Tony smiled at Steve, silently proud of catching Steve in his own technicality.

"Smart ass." Steve quipped, smacking his arm with a laugh. "Yes, Tony, I will." He leaned over and kissed the genius' cheek. "I'm curious though," blue eyes seemed to sparkle at him with a challenge, "How is the great Tony Stark on road trips?"

"You answered your own question," Tony shot back; "I'm great." In truth, the question hadn't made much sense to him at all. He could hold his bladder for extended periods of time, he didn't get drowsy behind the wheel, 'how is he on road trips.' Nonsense babble at its finest. "What do you even mean by that?"

"Hm?" Steve looked at him with a half smirk, "Oh, I was just wondering if you're any fun on these things or if it's just 'get to the destination' with you."

"I've been on so many; not in the last three years but before that we went every summer. And it was never well planned, either. More of a 'pack everything into the car and let's go' sort of thing. Mom and I always thought he'd figured everything out, every year we fell for it. He sort of did but he was always wrong about things or had looked at the wrong location or something. It made for an interesting summer, I loved it." Steve smiled brightly as he watched the road ahead of them, his mind seemingly elsewhere. "Best times of my life, I think, were spent hiking up the road with gas cans to fill up because we ran out of fuel; dad and I would always do it, mom stayed back with the car and our supplies. Dad was amazing; he had so many stories to tell me about how he did exactly what we'd been doing with his dad and so on. I felt so special, to be part of that cycle, the tradition. It was ridiculous though," He looked at Tony and laughed, "You'd think paying attention to the amount of fuel would have been a learned experience by then but I think my dad ran out on purpose. Never seemed to make my mom too happy."

Tony raised an eyebrow, visible only behind his designer shades, "You mean to tell me your dad intentionally sabotaged travel just for the experience? And your idea of a fun vacation is being en route the whole time without ever making it there?" Tony seemed sceptical, was the poorer class really that different? The entire point of this 12 hour drive was to get to Rome, to the Vatican. Not to take a 12 hour drive in a rental car, much less intentionally run out of gas.

Steve nodded with the biggest smile, "He did, and we hardly ever got to the supposed destination. I don't think we ever really had a destination, I think he made that up to get us out the door." He shook his head, "But it's fine, I mean I loved it regardless." If was aware of Tony's confusion about his family's idea of fun, he didn't show it.

"You know something, Tony?" Steve asked after a moment, his smile was toned down but no less warm and affectionate. "I really should thank you for this whole trip. If not for you I would have spent today hiding inside, staring at old photos and crying. But thanks to you I'm out here, travelling. The anniversary of my dad's death and I'm in a car on the open road, I don't think there's anywhere else I should be." He leaned over and kissed Tony's cheek again, trying not to distract the other teen from the road too much. "Thank you, Tony. This meant a lot."

Tony smiled, his chest swelled with pride, "I had planned on taking this trip regardless of classes. Its reading week in the college I attend, and I'd be damned if I was going to spend it at high school. Bringing you with had been a bit of an adjustment, but nothing was going to ruin my good mood about leaving the country. I'm glad I brought you with instead of ditching you with the project. I'd never have known what I'd be missing."

The blonde raised an eyebrow and looked his friend over, "Okay two things, one, if you had done that I would have murdered you when you got back. And two, since when have you been in college?" He stared at Tony with concern growing in his eyes, "Have you been doing high school and college at the same time all year? Why didn't you tell me you were so busy already? I wouldn't have given you such a hard time." He felt like an asshole, there was no other way to describe it at that moment.

"Hm? Oh," Tony hadn't revealed it before, and had had no intention of revealing it. He supposed the cat was out of the bag now. "I have been since last year, in the fall of eleventh grade. I received my diploma at the end of tenth grade, when I was 16. I'm in my second year of the MIT distance program for computer engineering and it is a royal pain in the ass. I didn't tell you because I didn't need any false sympathies."

"False sympathy- YOU IDIOT!" Steve tweaked him in the ear, "I was on your case _all year_! I had no idea, you should have told me. Is there anything fake about me? You've known me for a long time and you've gotten to know me a lot better in the last few days, is there anything about me that's fake? False sympathy is a stupid excuse. Next time tell me."

"OW!" Tony swatted at Steve and raised his hand to his ear, "If I told you that I had a full plate and then some, you would take it as me declaring that I can't handle more. I CAN handle more, I can handle anything! Maybe it wouldn't have been false sympathy, but it would've been unnecessary and unwanted sympathy." Tony pouted a moment before letting it go. He sighed, "I promise I'll tell you next time."

"Better," Steve kissed his cheek for a third time that drive, trailing it along his jaw and down to his neck, he was aware Tony needed to drive but he also needed to be shown affection. If Steve were going to die in an automobile accident then it might as well be while he was kissing someone he cared about.

* * *

The Eternal City – Rome was a place of nearly infinite history, endless churches and museums filled with age old art and artefacts across the ages. The exteriors were all immaculate, variation upon variation of extravagant roman architecture. Tony had no doubt that they were being shown the over-romanticized tourist location that everyone dreamed of, but he didn't care. He was in Rome, with his gorgeous boyfriend, and they were going to have a damn good time.

"Alright, there are a couple of must-sees in this city," Tony explained excitedly as he handed the keys back to the rental agent. "There's a tour that takes you through the quote, unquote "underside" of Rome, basically showing you three significant catacombs: The Cappuccini Crypt –made entirely out of human bones, Domitilla Catacombs, and the Church of San Clemente, which is a church built over a fourth century church which was built over an even older house, with ruins that run 57 meters underground." Tony spoke quickly and excitedly as he lead Steve through the bustling night life in the heart of Rome.

The blonde was hardly listening as he followed, trying to take in everything at once. It was gorgeous, all of it and he wished he could do more than gawk at it. Of course, the camera was a good way to capture it so he lifted it up and filmed, following his boyfriend's footsteps as best he could. "I'm good with just about anything so lead the way." He relinquished control to the genius who seemed to know a little too much about everything.

"Tomorrow will be the majority of our project for sure, touring the many Vatican museums, the Sistine chapel, the Scala Regia, not to mention Saint Peter's Basillica," Tony stopped and turned to face Steve, abruptly nose-to-nose with the taller teen, "But for tonight, we will go on our first official date as a couple, with the finest Italian cuisine available."

Steve couldn't help the blush in his cheeks when their noses touched, a spark of warmth running through him as he stared into those big brown eyes, the dark pools almost pulling him in. "That..." he let his hands slip around Tony's lower back and pull the other teen closer, their bodies flushed together, "Sounds amazing." He smiled before closing the gap and connecting their lips, a slow, hot kiss shared between them.

Finding a restaurant wasn't entirely easy at that hour but Tony was capable of working miracles. Steve swore the entire world knew what Stark Industries was and they'd all break their backs in order to serve Tony, or that was his opinion from his standpoint. Regardless, they managed to weasel their way into a rather beautiful place without a single reservation. Steve thought the last place was amazing, and the outside cafe that they'd had lunch at the other day. Everything was so extravagant, he was certain places like this existed in America too but he hadn't been to any of those either. The life of a rich man was so much different than one of a poor man. He was enjoying himself but he'd never trade in what he had for all the money in the world.

Steve looked at the menu with a slight smirk on his face and glanced up at Tony, everything about the other teen was starting to seem more and more amazing to him. Steve was starting to wonder the little things that only someone as simple as himself would consider. Why did Tony wear designer sunglasses everywhere he went? Why did he style his hair that way or wear the clothes he did? Where did that 'I can do whatever I want' attitude come from? And why did he seem so strange every time Steve mentioned his father and the different things they'd done together? He had a feeling Tony's relationship with Mr. Stark wasn't so great, family didn't seem to be as big a drive for the genius as it was for Steve.

"Earth to Steve," Tony snapped his fingers in front of Steve's face. "You're spacing out, and it's starting to unnerve me over here. Do you know what you're getting?"

"You know what? I'll just have whatever you're having." Steve said after putting the menu down, "I doubt I've tried any of it before and I'm not really picky right now." Blue eyes shifted up to scan his boyfriend's body language then to catch the look in Tony's eyes. It was amazing what he could see just from that simple action alone, the overconfidence that generally drowned everything else out, shielded it and hid it away. Steve could almost see past the arrogance, almost. He knew there was something else there, just by the few interactions that they'd had in the last few days he knew. He just wished he could see it outright, see the vulnerability he knew Tony had, the doubts, the fears, something. But of course Tony Stark wouldn't open up to just anybody, not even his boyfriend, Steve figured. He'd just have to work harder, push his way in.

"If you're sure," Tony smirked, fully intending to make Steve nervous about his choice in cuisine. Tony propped the menu up between them, "You're good with caviar, right?" He peered mischievously over the top of the menu, gauging Steve's hidden disgust at the mention of it, and watching the other teen put on a brave face, standing by his previous decision. "Fine, fine. I'll get us something edible. Waiter!" Tony called out to the man who had previous introduced himself as their server for the evening. "We'll just be having your authentic style lasagne, mushroom pesto for the sauce. Oh, and two glasses of your finest red wine."

Steve thought about arguing the wine but decided against it, smiling up at the waiter who happily scribbled down their order. "Alright," he watched the waiter leave once their order was confirmed, his gaze fixed on Tony now, "We're going to play a little game. I'll ask you a question and no matter what you have to answer truthfully, alright? You're allowed to pass them for a different question if you want, then once you've answered you ask me. That sound good?"

"Quid pro quo, Clarese," Tony smirked. He was entirely sure that Steve wouldn't catch the Hannibal Lector reference, but it was worth a shot. The blank stare he received confirmed his suspicions. "It sounds good," Tony confirmed.

"Good, I'll go first. Something that I've wanted to ask all year, do you hate people?"

"No, but if you want more information from me, you'll have to start asking better questions." Tony smirked, "My turn, why are you such a stickler on group work?"

Steve smirked, "I guess I'll have to stay away from yes or no questions with you, you'll avoid giving a proper answer every time. And as for your question, I feel very strongly about group work. To me, group projects in school are the real test, they're the types of things you'll need to know going out into the world. The material isn't as important, it is important but not as much as the experience. People will have to know how to work together, to compromise, to be able to handle other people either giving them directions or listening to them, or possibly even handle the difficult situations. I try to look past the project and see the situation; I get upset when a teammate doesn't cooperate because it ruins the entire dynamic for everyone else." He smiled and shrugged, "People shouldn't hate group work, they should love it. Humans are social beings, hating to be in groups is a learned thing because there's always someone that screws it up at one point or another. I could go on about this but I doubt you want to hear it all."

"And you'd be right," Tony didn't know why he asked, Steve had explained it all before, and Tony's first instinct was to argue against him. He'd decided better, but he didn't fully agree. He understood Steve's perspective better now, that the teen was of the lower middle class, and would undoubtedly have to rely on the charity of others later on in life and carry the weight of others still. Tony lived in a different world, and that didn't make either him or Steve wrong, just different. "Your turn."

"Alright, why are you so against group work?"

"Seriously with the group work?" Tony sighed, but it was only fair, "First of all, I'm not against it, I just don't see it being run the same way you do. You see equality, shared work load and work experience. I don't. I see vast inequality; I see inexperienced people and stupid people. There are peons in this world better left to menial tasks and leg work, and then there are the gifted people. Don't get me wrong," Tony was quick to point a finger at Steve before the other boy interrupted, "I do see myself as gifted, but intelligence isn't the only gift. And I also never said anything about getting a lighter workload. But since I already know all of this, there's no point in re-learning it in a classroom of people who don't really give a damn. I have no reason to exert myself because there is no goal."

Steve nodded, "I can respect that." He really could, Tony truly came from a different background than himself, Tony's world was entirely different than his and there was nothing wrong with that. Steve couldn't very well push his mentality on another person, the best he could do would be to accept Tony for who he was, after all, this was still the same teen who had opened up his small world to all of this magnificence. Even if it was something he might never experience again, Tony had given it to him as a gift and he'd never spit in the face of that.

"Your turn: You're always friendly with the other students in school, but group work or no group work, you've always hated me. Why is that?"

"Hate is a strong word, Tony." Steve fidgeted a little and looked down, "But I guess I sort of did... I felt like you got a lot of opportunities that no one else did and you squandered it. From my vantage point you seemed to be given nearly everything, I can see now that you weren't, very clearly you weren't, but before that's what I thought. You were this obnoxious, self-centered guy who couldn't be bothered to get his head out his own backside to notice the rest of the world around him. I mean you obviously knew about the rest of the world but in your eyes were all, well... peons I guess. We're the masses, the large group of people who can't do what you can so we're lesser than you are. I... I don't like that. That kind of thinking, it's hurtful and you really had no right to be that way toward us. I reacted to what I saw, what I assumed." Steve smiled and scratched the back of his head, "And uh... Well once in a while... I'd have these dreams, very... intimate dreams and you'd pop up every so often. Guess that's a stupid excuse but there it is."

Tony burst out laughing, "You hated me because you had a gay crush on me? !" He couldn't help the tears from flowing, and his side ached something fierce. "Well, I am drop-dead gorgeous, so there's no faulting you there." Tony didn't want to focus on what Steve had said, didn't want to get into that kind of discussion about the worth of human life.

Steve blushed and waved at him desperately, "Tony, shush! Don't say it so loud." He glanced around the rather nice restaurant embarrassedly. He was smiling too, though, it was nice to say it, to get rid of the silly anger he had toward the other teen. "But I guess I kind of deserve to be laughed at for that," he chuckled.

"Remember you can pass these," Steve reminded after a quiet moment of thought, "But I need to know... Thursday morning, when I... well, when I was crying, can you tell me what was going through your head? I know helping people isn't your strong suit but I'd really like to know."

Tony's eyes lowered and stayed glued to his hands for a moment. '_What was going through my head_?' There had to be a right answer, what was Steve looking for, what should he say? "Are you looking for a good reason for me not to dive to your bedside? I don't..." '_...know what you're asking of me_.'

"No, I just want to know what you were thinking." Steve said simply, not missing the way Tony wasn't looking at him.

"I panicked, I guess. Somewhere in my head I knew that you should be comforted. _How_ I know that, I don't have a clue. I've seen it in movies, and I guess... people just feel it." Tony swallowed past the lump in his throat; he wasn't sure how much he wanted to share with Steve, how much he _should_ share. There was always a right answer, something that should be done versus something that shouldn't, a right and many wrongs. He often didn't care, but there was always an answer, something concrete. Like a complex equation, it could be worked out. Tony didn't see an answer here. "When you were crying that morning, I thought about what would happen if it were me who were crying. No one would be there, and I'd probably be alone in my room. I wouldn't dare show my dad that I was crying because he'd just tell me to leave. So I would trivialize the problem, and with that conclusion I was unconsciously starting to trivialize _your_ problem. I think that's the best answer you're going to get out of me, because I'm done with it." '_Should've just passed.' _

Steve nodded and fiddled with his fork for a few seconds in silence, "Except if you were the one crying instead of me it would have been in that moment and I still would have been there." He looked up and smiled softly, "I think you forget that you have me now. You won't have to cry alone in your room anymore, I'd come running every time." He meant it too, Steve hated leaving his friends and loved ones to suffer alone like that, everyone deserved someone's comfort, especially someone as emotionally stunted as Tony. "And it's okay that you panicked, I'm usually a pretty strong guy, it's... scary when someone you view as strong breaks down like that. I understand. I just... I hope you don't think any less of me? That's partially what I was worried about."

Tony nodded dumbly, he wanted to take a shot at Steve, make a joke like '_Who said I thought you were strong?_' "Thanks Steve, that means a lot to me." Tony looked back up from his clasped hands, "And you should know that I don't think any less of you. No one asked you to be strong, and if you keep up that kind of thinking, you're only going to run yourself into the ground."

"Maybe," Steve smiled; he wanted to say 'some people have to be, even if they aren't asked' but he didn't. He figured they'd just end up arguing or something stupid like that, best to not get into that kind of fight because there was no real answer to it.

"Ok, last question to even it up: Will you give me a strip tease when we get back to the hotel?" Tony smirked from ear to ear. Serious conversations be damned, this was important.

The blonde flushed even deeper, "Oh my- Tony!" he tried to shrink in his seat, glancing away then back up, "I don't know how... And that's not dinner conversation." His skip between being shy to scolding and still blushing like a school boy was fairly confusing, for his brain to translate properly. "If... if you'd teach me?"

"If it means having your scantily clad, finely toned ass traipsing around the hotel room I'd teach you anything," Tony smirked, though he was 100% sincere.

Dinner was full of laughs, and a bit of server harassment in no small part due to Tony's impatience. The boys taxi'd to the nearest hotel after, a one night lay-over in Rome before packing the next full of tours and pseudo-research...


	6. Chapter 6

All of the research, all of the travelling this way and that, and all of the excitement of being in a new place still didn't trump the fact that Steve was overwhelmed and happy to have a boyfriend. Of course, that didn't entirely count when he was on a train for the first time in his life. Big blue eyes staring out every window as he went by them, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, giddy with every step. He looked at Tony in his astonishment then eyes right back to staring at the train, the passengers, the view, all of it. Nothing had been able to ruin their good moods, Rome was magnificently beautiful, it really was, but their trip was originally to Paris, France so they couldn't exactly spend the rest of their time in Rome. Not that they didn't want to, they'd gotten so much footage it was ridiculous.

Steve would say that his favourite part was Tony's impatience when they strolled through the Gardens of the Villa Borghese, it was a gorgeous place and the weather was incredible but Tony was always the 'get up and go' type, never one for walking around and looking at flowers. Steve had taken the other teens hand and slowed his pace, had shushed him more than once and they had even been bold enough to make out in the public park. It was peaceful, quiet, or as much as it could be with Tony's constant whining. Steve would cherish that part, in particular. Filming his boyfriend pouting then being slightly captivated by a new view before snapping back to upset, hoping Steve hadn't caught it on camera.

Everything they did was together, Steve hardly went anywhere that Tony wasn't and Tony couldn't exactly escape his new tag-along. They'd gotten intimate a few times but never going further than Steve was comfortable with, and penetration had never been on the list of comfortable places Steve would go. He'd get excited, overly into it, but every time Tony's fingers would test him Steve would say no, he wasn't ready yet. And that was only fair, they'd been dating for a few days.

It was near the end of their trip when Tony decided he would be damned if he didn't get to try any of the more adult lifestyle in Europe while it was legal for him, and considering the country's laws it was legal for Steve too so why not get him in on it?

"Hey Steve," Tony called to his boyfriend across the room. He was lounging on his respective bed, although claiming beds had proven pointless, watching Steve tirelessly plug away at the video editing software on Tony's laptop. It was Steve's turn to do some editing, and while Tony didn't really care, Steve would not allow himself to _not_ work on the project. "What would you say if we spent our last night in Europe exploring the nightclubs or Paris?"

"What?" Steve looked up from editing the video footage, it was fairly boring and dry stuff though he was still interested because every once in a while he saw Tony in the clips and it always brought a smile to his face. These different shots and everything else weren't just a project, it was like a home movie, their first one. Maybe he was being a little silly and overly attached but it seemed like such a sweet thing to be able to look back on one day.

"_Clubs_? As in... drinking? No, no way Tony. We're not old enough."

"Pssh, don't be such a stickler, and besides: legal drinking age in Paris is 15. We're both plenty legal to hit the clubs." Tony sat up on the bed and swung his legs over the edge, perching there with invested interest in the conversation.

"I don't care if those are these country's laws, we're Americans and we should still follow _our_ laws-" Steve stopped himself when he noticed the pleading look in those big brown eyes, he swore he'd never been this affected by a puppy-look in his entire life. "...Fine." He surrendered and looked away with his cheeks tinged pink, "But let's not get carried away, alright?"

Tony's fist shot out in a self-congratulating fist-pump action, "Yes! Awesome, I promise you won't regret it." Tony hoped that Steve wouldn't regret it, anyway. And he would make no such promises about 'getting carried away.' That notion was subjective, and Tony wouldn't be 'carried away' if he'd planned the whole thing from the start.

"Right, I'm sure I won't." Steve felt hesitant but didn't change his mind.

Before Steve knew it he was in the backseat of a car heading to one of Paris' clubs, his heart pounding hard in his chest as he stared out the window with wide eyes. The streets were bright and bustling even in the late evening hours, still a magnificent sight and Steve really wouldn't have rather seen it with anyone else.

Tony sat next to Steve in the backseat of the rented limo, excitedly counting through the Euros in his wallet and mentally tabulating how much alcohol he could pump into Steve. '_Better not be too obvious with my intentions, they are slightly dubious_,' Tony made a mental note to put a lid on it, and turned his attention back on Steve. Wonderful, polite, gorgeous Steve. Tony wondered if there was a single time during this trip when he _didn't_ have the other teen blushing red or put out of his element. '_Well of course he's not in his element, he's in Paris_.' Still, it was nothing short of dumb luck that Tony accounted for his new relationship with the modest teen. "Excited yet? You can't let your nerves eat you alive, trust me a little."

"Does nervous count as excitement?" Steve chuckled but exhaled slowly, "I know, I know. Just... I gotta get used to it, that's all." He took Tony's hand and squeezed it lightly before quickly drawing it back and wiping off the nervous sweat. "Sorry."

"Well technically yes, nervousness is a form of excitement," Tony smiled at Steve, "Don't worry about it, you'll be fine."

The driver pulled up in front the club, exited the vehicle and opened Steve's passenger door. He stepped aside, inviting the two teens to exit. Tony hopped out after Steve and led the way in the door, paying both of their cover charges on the way. He could hear the pounding music from outside and the bustling of bodies just beyond the door. He was determined to make this a night to remember.

Walking into a club for the first time Steve unconscious reached for Tony's hand, holding it as tightly as he could while his eyes darted about frantically, part of him wondering why he was here, if he should just leave. It was still early, they just walked in and no harm had actually been done. He could still get up and go, no harm no foul.

Tony hadn't missed the anxious stance his boyfriend had taken and he didn't want to risk his blonde beauty running from their first club night, so he pulled Steve down into a kiss, consuming his mouth and plunging his tongue into the hot pressure inside Steve. There was a slight moan as a response, a little startled but more lusty than anything else, Steve wrapped his arms around the smaller teen and let himself forget where he was. This was something Tony wanted them to do, and already Steve couldn't count the number of things Tony had sacrificed doing for him so the least he could do was give this one thing to his partner.

"Alright," Steve gasped once their kiss broke, "Okay, distract me, you're good at that."

"Of course I am," Tony smiled back. If there was anything he'd learned about Steve Rogers it was that the boy was a slave to his hormones –like any other teenager. Add a little alcohol into the mix and maybe, just maybe they'd make it past that last hurdle. "Now how about we get a drink in you, and get this party started."

One drink, he decided one drink and that'd be it. But when Tony announced to the entire place that it was their first time in a club, his charming and charismatic tendencies catching the eyes of others, their attention and before he knew it people were buying them drinks, cheering for them to take shots and Steve couldn't be sure he knew how many he'd drank by the end of the first hour or two. And apparently he wasn't done yet because another teenager around their age wanted to go toe to toe with him in a contest.

Tony was nothing short of a bad influence on Steve, encouraging the teen to face down that other chump, if nothing else than as a matter of principle. He stayed at Steve's side, caressing his arm, whispering encouraging words in his ear. He'd never admit it, but Tony felt a bit like a cheap whore, but that didn't really matter to him at the time.

It was no contest. Steve's father had been able to handle his alcohol with the best of them, it took a long time to get a Rogers drunk, and Steve proved it that night when he sat triumphant while the other boy fell off his stool.

Tony smiled to himself, swirling the fluids in his glass 'round once again, a sort of practiced, unconscious manoeuvre that was becoming increasingly clumsy as the night wore on. Steve had never drank before, of that much Tony was certain. But that didn't at all stop him from hitting the ground running. Tony honestly hadn't seen the party animal coming because Steve was anything but –the guy was the most upright, morally driven, religious-minded, keener Tony had ever met. And he planned on fixing that, just a little. Watching Steve barely stand, the slightest stagger in his step and the complete loosening of his _many_ inhibitions was appealing to Tony, but only in the sense that he'd be the one to take advantage of it –and no one else.

Tipsy wasn't nearly strong enough to describe Steve at that point, drunk and close to completely wasted was much, much better. He had loosened up quite a bit, his tongue as unwound as his nerves, he kissed along his boyfriend's neck, touching, feeling him up, whispering sweet nothings in his ear, and possibly a few cruder things he'd never normally have the guts to say out loud.

Tony shivered under Steve's touch; the other teen's words were only made more effective given Steve's usually reserved disposition. Tony had to briefly wonder –in his alcohol-fogged mind, who would be taking advantage of who, but concluded to no one other than himself that this would be completely consensual.

"My god you're hot, Tony," he muttered roughly, nipping at Tony's earlobe. Steve was standing behind Tony; their bodies pressed together, his hips rocking gently against the other teen's backside, hands sliding up and down his torso underneath his shirt. "Fuck, Tony..." Steve gasped, inhaling Tony's scent deeply.

Tony couldn't contain the slightest giggle, and then moaned at Steve's touch, leaning back into the firm expanse of Steve's chest, treasuring the barely controlled bucks of the other teen's was a happy drunk, all hands (much akin to Steve) and very excited to go and dance, so Steve joined him, despite complaining that he had two left feet. They moved awkwardly with all the other mashing bodies on the dance floor, the music was so loud Steve could hardly focus on anything else. At least, he didn't focus on anything until he saw someone else with hands on his boyfriend.

Dancing was fun, and dancing with Steve was better. Tony had lost himself in the atmosphere of the party, the humming phase of drunken bliss blended with the pounding music and the writhing mass of bodies to stir up an unparalleled euphoria, and Tony almost didn't mind that another man's hands were on his waist –almost. The insistent groping was invasive and violating, and Tony couldn't get the leverage to hit the guy. "Get off!" Tony snapped at him.

The guy wouldn't let go of the brunette, ignoring Tony's anger and persisting in his feeble and drunk attempts. "C'mon baby, s'jus a little lovin'-" He stopped suddenly when his shirt was grabbed and he was pulled face to face with a snarling blonde.

"Fuck off, creep." Steve growled, pushing the man off of Tony, "He's _my_ boyfriend,"

"Better keep your eye on 'im, he's pretty slutty-" The guy didn't get to properly end his sentence, there was a very solid knee crushing into his gut and once he was doubled over an upper cut to the jaw sent him stumbling back into the crowd.

Tony was amazed that Steve still had _that_ kind of coordination left in him. Adrenaline must have been pumping hard to stave off the tranquilizing effects of the massive amount of liquor he'd consumed. Tony darted to Steve side, more aware of his smaller physical stature than he ever was, and just a little frightened by it. But he was even more aware of Steve –the ferocity with which he defended what he cared about, and the strength that hid beneath his beautiful exterior.

Steve snorted like an enraged bull but didn't follow him any further, his priorities skipping right back to where they should be, "You okay?" He asked, his arms slipping around Tony's waist and pulling him close again.

"_Am I_," Tony breathily replied as he pressed himself against Steve, arching up to kiss his defender with all he was worth. His hands slid over Steve's taut back muscles, stopping to find purchase, to push himself impossibly closer and eliminate any distance between them.

Steve moaned into the kiss, not quite expecting Tony to be so frisky after that but he didn't complain. Adrenaline was rushing through him and his inhibitions were completely shut off, their hands were everywhere on one another and Steve couldn't be sure where they were anymore, no longer on the dance floor; they'd stumbled back toward the tables and booths. He remembered a firm hand on his shoulder, a bouncer he was pretty sure though his mind was too flustered with lust and alcohol to really know for sure.

All that he was aware of after that moment was that there was a taxi and they were heading back to their hotel. Steve couldn't exactly describe how they'd gotten there, how long it took to drive there or anything else, all he knew was that he had his hand down the front of Tony's pants and there was a very stiff and aching prize for him waiting there. The cabbie, he remembered, shouted at them, probably to not to do that in his backseat, though they weren't exactly listening, nor could he have understood the angry Frenchman.

The hotel door was difficult to open, especially with Tony pressing up against his backside, a dark and all consuming blush had long since claimed his face, the heat nearly as distracting as his boyfriend's persistent erection. Tony was moaning something into his ear, Steve struggled to pay attention to the door though he hadn't missed the words, "I'm going to fuck you so good, baby."

The blonde moaned desperately as he finally got their room open, falling against the opening door as Tony's hands succeeded in unfastening his belt, reaching down below the waistline and grasping Steve's cock, hard and throbbing for the simple touch. "Tony! Oh god, Tony!" Steve whined, hips bucking forward into the genius' hand.

"Mhmm..." Tony hummed against Steve's neck, licking at the sweat that was starting to form there. "You're gorgeous, Steve, so fucking pretty. And you're mine."

Steve managed to collect himself, his hazy mind barely registering that he'd done it as he turned and picked Tony up, letting the hotel door slam shut behind them as he carried the slightly giddy drunk to bed. Tony was sloppily trying to undress though all he really managed to do was pull his pants down around his knees, his dick bobbing up, finally free and in the open, or at least until Steve wrapped his lips around it.

"Oh _fuck_!" Tony gasped, his hands grasping at the blonde hair between his legs, pulling it until he heard and felt the rumble of a moan on his sensitive skin. "Ohhh Steve... Oh-OH!" Despite how much he was loving it, how hot and ready he was, he pushed Steve's head back, "No, baby, not yet."

Steve stared up with glassy eyes, hardly understanding why he wasn't allowed to taste Tony's release but that wasn't a problem for long. Tony pulled him up higher on the bed and traded their places, spreading Steve's thighs and resting between them, loving the warmth being given off by Steve's body. Tony trailed a hand down the well-toned chest, tweaking playfully at the hardened nipples before losing patience, Steve had been teased enough on the way to the hotel, his cock was swollen and laying heavily on his stomach, his mouth open in a silent moan, he couldn't take much more.

Tony smiled and hopped up, his mind focused on this one thing, he needed lubricant and luckily he had some in his bag. Why he packed it early he couldn't rightly recall in his drunken state of mind but he was praising himself for his genius all over again regardless.

"Tony..." Steve whimpered from the bed, blue eyes nearly black with lust as he watched the other teen rummage.

"Shh," Tony smiled and, almost tripping on his way back, reached the bed while soaking his fingers (and his hands and part of the floor) with the lube. "I know, almost there."

Steve nodded and was about to speak when a finger pressed inside him, with anything in his brain that would normally call for slower, more careful planning shut off and drowned in alcohol, he pushed down onto Tony's finger desperate for something to be inside him, for their intimacy to get closer. "TONY! Fuck! Oh god!" He cried out anything that came to mind, most of it incoherent.

Tony could hardly take it either, watching Steve's god-like body (to a teenager just about everything is, and to a drunk teenager everything would be as long as he could stick his dick into it) squirm and flail beneath him nearly sent him over the edge. "Fuck... Steve I'm going in," he whispered after only just pushing in his second finger.

Steve nodded, "Please... Oh god please... Tony, I don't know." His brain was a mess of mixed messages, it was too soon, it was too fast, but it was too damn good to say no.

Tony didn't hear a 'no stop' so he went ahead with it, coating himself in lube thinking it would help and lining up with Steve's hardly prepped entrance.

A sharp cry escaped the blonde as Tony pushed inside, it burned, it hurt, but it also felt like the most amazing thing Steve could have comprehended at that moment. He felt alive and he felt incredible, legs wrapping around Tony's waist, thighs pressing hard against Tony's sides as they tried to get used to it. "Ah! Ohhhh Tony!"

"Shit," Tony gasped, "You're so tight," he rested his sweaty forehead against Steve's shoulder as he did his best not to cum immediately, the strong muscles of Steve's ass weren't really helping as they flexed and stretched along his cock.

"It hurts," Steve whined, his shoulders pressing down into the bed as his back arched up.

"Shh, it's okay." Tony whispered, starting to thrust forward and back, wriggling around to get a good angle on his writhing boyfriend.

"Tony it-AH! Oh _g-AH!_" Steve could hardly think anymore, his body moving against Tony's so frantically, whatever bundle of nerves Tony was hitting inside him it was driving him wild. He was screaming, he knew he was screaming because the room was suddenly very loud and his mouth was wide open but he really couldn't focus to know for sure.

Their climaxes happened quickly, Steve came first and he came harder than he ever had before in his life. Their stomachs were coated in his release as he took the last few thrusts from Tony obediently. He couldn't remember anything after that, he couldn't think anymore. Steve was blacked out completely in the following few moments.

* * *

**Zafona's Notes:**

******Like to thank all of you for giving this story a shot :D We would love to hear about your thoughts on all of this, let us know XD We put a lot of effort into this story ;)**


	7. Chapter 7

Sunlight fluttered in the window, a warm and beautiful glow in the room. But it was shattered as soon as several alarms went off. The boys had been smart enough to set and turn on more than one alarm for that day, their plane would be leaving shortly and they needed to get ready. Steve's eyes snapped open and he groaned, immediately regretting it. "Oh my head..." He sat up, about to flounder for the awful noise maker when he felt a long and sudden throb deep inside him. "AH!" He tensed instantly and flinched from the sudden pain, "Ow... ow ow ow ow" he whined and squeezed his eyes shut, everything felt very very wrong.

Steve lay still, calming his frantic head and hoping that the swarming thoughts would stop soon and leave him be, hoping that his stomach wouldn't revolt against the rest of him. "Tony..." he whimpered softly, getting his head in order and asking for the only other person he knew was there. Steve looked down at his stomach, noticing it felt uncomfortable and a bit crusty. Semen. He recognized it on his stomach, he also realized that it was the same uncomfortable substance clinging to his backside. "Tony..." Steve's tone was a little stronger this time, "Did... did we... did you...?" He looked up, eyes wide and starting to look a bit furious.

Tony stirred on the bed, messy, but as content as a cat after a warm dish of milk. He stretched casually; half-mindedly taking in Steve's confused stuttering before addressing the waking teen with his full attention. "We did," he smiled confidently, "And it was heavenly." Tony suddenly caught the thinly veiled glower behind Steve's eye, a threatening warning to deny the truth.

"Oh my god! You... I told you I didn't want to go to that stupid club! Look what..." Steve winced again as he started to sit up, part of him knowing it couldn't just be cum that had leaked from him yesterday, "I was drunk and you did it anyway. I can't believe this. It's all so messed up!"

"Steve, calm down," Tony sat up easily, not at all matching the pain that Steve was going through. It was one-sided, he could see it: Steve had been unsure, Tony had been wanting –not only about the club or the drinking, but the sex too. And now Steve was the one in pain and in shock, while Tony was comfortably satiated. This would take more than a little smooth talking.

"Calm down! ?" Steve shouted, got up and wincing all the way, "You took advantage of me!"

"You were all hands, and you weren't the only one who was plastered," Tony shot back defensively. "I loved the attention, and so did you. How do you expect me to say no when you're all over me like that? Down my pants in public and everything? It's not like I planned the whole thing." That was exactly what he had done, and he hoped that last line didn't spark any suspicions.

Steve wouldn't have thought anything weird about it if not for Tony's slightly concerned expression, that little look of guilt. Tony had clearly expected it all to go well and Steve freaking out wasn't part of the plan. "You... you did, didn't you?" Steve stared in disgust, "You _planned_ that! Oh my god you planned that? You wanted to get me drunk so I you could- I can't believe you'd do that to me!" His tantrum was turning into much more than a simple freak out, he was pissed.

"Steve-"

"NO! Shut up Tony, just... just pack your shit and shut up, I'm taking a shower." Steve roared and did his best to walk respectably to the shower, not wanting to stumble though he did anyway. "That was _important_!" He turned around once he reached the bathroom doorway, clearly his mind not letting him just go and clean up. "How could you? That was important to me and you knew it, you fucking _knew it_ and you did that anyway! You planned it that way! You have no patience and no respect for me! Is this what you're going to be like? Is this how you're going to treat me? I'm not talking to you, I'm not _fucking_ talking to you." He slammed the door behind him in finality.

"I didn't-!" Tony dropped his outstretched arm, staring face-to-wood with the bathroom door. His voice was barely a whisper, "I didn't mean for it to go like that..." He turned back to the hotel room, riddled with discarded clothes from the night before, the smell of raucous sex still lingering in the fabric. "I didn't mean for it to go like that!" Tony kicked over the nightstand next to the nearest bed, sending it and the lamp it supported toppling to the ground. He dropped onto the bed, his face in his palms.

* * *

The flight back to New York was beyond a doubt the most painful and awkward stretch of time Tony had ever endured in his entire life. It was almost as though their week of getting along, joking like the best of friends –had never existed at all. Tony was sure that Steve was exaggerating, that there was no way the other teen could possibly remain utterly and disdainfully cold and silent throughout the whole trip –but he was wrong. Steve was nothing but stone-faced, straight back to Tony's #1 'fan', in the most sarcastic sense of the phrase.

Tony spent the majority of his time in-flight trying to come up with a way to re-break the ice, as it were; to make it up to Steve, or sound sincere in his apology. If he didn't make things right with Steve before they landed in New York, he may never have another chance. For as much as Tony dwelled on it and for as hard as his mind chipped away at the problem, he had nothing to show for it.

When the plane landed, Steve had collected his single in-flight bag with tempered speed, and was gone down the plane aisle before Tony could even grab his attention. '_He still needs to collect his luggage from bag check_,' Tony reminded himself, and quickly grabbed his carry-on and hurried out of the plane. He'd swore he'd never seen a customs line as long in his life. Only when you're in a hurry will the most inconvenient of things find their way into your path –or maybe that's the only time you notice them.

Tony jogged to the baggage conveyor and caught a glimpse of the still silently fuming teen as he grabbed his duffel from the many, and turned to leave. Tony opened his mouth, ready to call out to him, to say whatever he needed to –whatever he _could_, to get Steve to stay. And then his phone rang.

Tony began to walk after Steve so as not to lose sight of him as he wrestled his phone out of his pants pocket. "Tony speaking," he answered curtly.

"Tony, its Mr. Stane," Obadiah's usually boisterous voice sounded grave, and almost business-esque in demeanour. His referral to himself in a formal fashion did nothing to calm Tony's edging suspicions.

"Obie, what's shaking?" Tony went for casual –lighten the call, and keep it short. Tony's attention remained glued to Steve's retreating back, on the smooth glide of those tense shoulders.

"It's your father; he died yesterday in an automobile accident. I'm sorry for your loss, but I'll need you to come in to the executive offices of Stark Tower as soon as you can..." Obadiah kept talking, and Tony couldn't have focused on a word of it if he had tried. The young man stood stock still in the terminal, watching his first of many failed love lives to come walk away, needing the softer side of a relationship now more than ever; and more than ever he was too afraid to reach out for the closeness he wanted or for the kindness that he so desperately needed.

Tony remembered their short road trip across the countryside in Europe, when Steve discovered Tony's college workload.

"_**Is there anything about me that's fake? False sympathy is a stupid excuse. Next time tell me."**_

"_**I promise I'll tell you next time."**_

He couldn't do it. Tony silently watched Steve walk out of his life, holding his phone now on disconnect, knowing that his only family in the world was also dead and gone, and that he would never hold the approval of either. He'd never felt so alone in his entire existence.

* * *

Tony attended his father's funeral just a few short days after returning from Paris. He felt just as out of place there as he had in his father's presence while the man was alive –he supposed some things would never change, even in death. There were hundreds of attendees, most of whom were Howard's fellow researchers, members of the board, and Stark Industry employees. They all sent Tony their 'condolences,' offered their support in spirit. It was all a show, like all of Tony's life had been, none of them would actually go out of the way to help, wouldn't even ask how he was doing for fear of actually having to _shoulder_ some of the burden.

If anyone would have asked, Tony wouldn't have had an answer for them. He felt dead inside, empty, and hollow. He'd never done right by his old man, never succeeded in anything of import. And to make matters worse, he'd lost Steve –hurt him and betrayed him. Tony couldn't show his face in school again. He doubted that Steve would tell anyone, but it would've been too hard to see him again. And now there was the company to think about... and Obadiah.

Obadiah came up behind Tony and placed a large, steadying hand on the young teen's shoulder. Tony shuddered in response. "Like we discussed when you got back," Stane reminded him, "We'll keep this show running, bigger and better than before." The much larger man leant down to Tony's ear, his hand tightening into a painful grip, "Just as long as you do as I say, and everything will work out just fine."

* * *

Steve went to school the day the project was due, he was tired from jet lag and a long trip that ended much worse than he had ever expected it to. He approached the teacher with a grim expression and nervously shifted his weight to either leg, ignoring the continued though dulled throb inside him. "I uh... I don't have my project." He said quietly, ashamed of just about everything that had happened that week. He'd told his mom everything, cried on her shoulder and let her pray over him though nothing seemed to help. And arriving in class and remembering that Tony was the one who had the project and that they never finished editing it... well it was all just icing on the cake.

"Oh, it's okay Tony emailed it to me this morning." The teacher smiled brightly at him, "I must say I had to watch it, a video of two students going to Europe? That's going a long way for a one week project."

"It was... it was important." Steve replied, a little shocked to hear that Tony still finished editing it. "How did we do?"

"Well I was going to give you 100% for going to Europe but the video was fantastic!"

Steve's mind had ignored the following praise, he was too stuck on thinking about what that meant or if it meant anything at all. Tony had finished the project for them but didn't bother to show up to hand it in. _'Maybe he's ashamed of himself. He should be... but..'_ Steve couldn't help the ache in his chest, despite Tony deserving every moment of getting the cold shoulder; Steve really thought they had something. _'But nothing, he's pig.'_ He thought firmly and thanked the teacher for everything before awkwardly sitting in his seat.

After that everything seemed off, Tony never returned to school, he'd graduated on his own and never came back; saw no point in it Steve guessed. Too afraid to apologize properly, was another assumption. Still though, Steve couldn't stop thinking about it, about their trip, their first time together, the things they'd told each other and what they'd learned about the other. How could all that be gone? _'Because you freaked out, you pushed him away over the stupidest thing and now he's gone. Good job, Steve. Good freaking job...'_

But there's no point in getting stuck on the past, is there? Steve eventually moved forward, doing exactly what his mom always told him. Life was easiest when it was simple and Steve was a simple man, or at least he planned to be one.

_Momma told me, when I was young_

_Said Sit beside me, my only son_

_And listen closely, to what I say_

_And if you do this, It'll help you, some sunny day_

_Oh take your time, Don't live too fast_

_Troubles will come, And they will pass_

_You'll find a woman, yea you'll find love_

_And don't you forget son, There is someone, up above_

_And be a simple, kind of man_

_OH be something, you love and understand_

_Baby be a simple, kind of man_

_Oh, won't you do this, for me son_

_If you can?_

_Forget your lust, for the rich man's gold_

_All that you need, is in your soul_

_And you can do this, oh baby, if you try_

_All that I want for you my son,_

_Is to be satisfied_

_Boy, don't you worry, you'll find yourself_

_Follow your heart, and nothing else_

_And you can do this, oh baby, if you try_

_All that I want for you my son_

_Is to be satisfied_


	8. Chapter 8

**Zafona's Notes:**

**Of course it isn't over guys! Lmao apparently we scared a few of you XD **

* * *

Steve ran a hand along his hairline, making sure it was properly positioned and that he didn't look like a mess before walking into his friend's place. There was nothing more disrespectful than showing up to a planned get together with messy hair, well, sure there were more rude things to do but he wasn't thinking of any at the time.

Blue eyes peered into the front door window after he rang the bell, it was fairly early in the morning, Steve was always awake early but he knew Thor would be up as well. They had a sort of morning workout routine and It was often done in Steve's basement or Thor's, they alternated weekly and this week was Steve's turn to go to his friend's place.

He waited patiently, or as patiently as his body would allow him in the chilly autumn air, he glanced up toward the sky, noting that it looked like rain for later in the day. Of course, as he was in the midst of his mental travels the door swung open, his gaze snapped back only to meet a dishevelled Loki, Thor's roommate and adopted brother. "Uh, morning." Steve offered a bright smile which was promptly ignored.

"Thor's already in the basement," the dark haired male yawned as he stepped inside, a very extravagant housecoat on his shoulders.

"Wha- Thor!" Steve shouted as he hurried inside, his face growing cross as he slipped his shoes off and took the stairs two at a time, his long legs accomplishing it easily. "We're supposed to do this _together_. What the heck?"

Thor didn't move from the bench press, didn't even disrupt his rhythm, a small smile played across his face. "I heard the bell," the replied easily, if not with a grunt of exertion. "And I knew Loki would get it for me. Besides," Thor placed the weight back across its resting position, rose up off the bench and fetched a towel, "You're late."

"Uh huh, I wasn't late, I was right on time, your clocks are fast, remember?" Steve smirked and started stretching, he'd run to Thor's so the warm up was out of the way already.

A rumble of a laugh shook from the larger man's chest, "Right," he chuckled, "You were counting on that as an excuse for being late. I corrected those clocks last week and you know it." Thor's bright blue eyes levelled a knowing gaze on Steve, his muscled arms crossed over his broad chest. "Come now Steve, it is common knowledge to us both that you are a terrible liar. You are too simple for trickery or treachery." Thor gave Steve a friendly clap on the shoulder, "Let us not waste any more time."

Steve smiled and shrugged, "Alright, you caught me. I'm a bit late, but I had to pack all of my stuff for today's interview, couldn't find my tie." He moved to the weight set, "But you got it, no more excuses or time wasting."

Their teamed physical stress time was over after an hour; both exerted just enough to be ready for the day. "Mind if I use your shower?" Steve asked with a slight smile, "My interview's in an hour and I'd like to at least make sure I don't smell terrible."

"It's not as though I need it or anything," Thor shot back with a laugh, "Help yourself."

"Thanks man," Steve clapped Thor on the shoulder and trotted back up the stairs, passing Loki's lounging form on the couch, ignoring the over feminine way he did everything. The guy was supposed to be royalty in another life, he was pretty sure. "More awake?" He asked as he strolled by.

"More or less," Loki glanced up from his book for a few seconds before looking back down at it, "Let me guess, shower time?"

"Yep, if you have to use it do it now." Steve paused after the offer to see if Loki moved, he didn't.

"I'm good. Tell me, why doesn't Bucky join you two?"

"He's working; I usually do evening runs and training with him when he wants to."

Loki looked over the couch in disturbed shock, "You do that twice in a day? That's not good for you."

"The workout with Thor is usually a lot more intense than the one with Bucky, plus I'm often just his spotter or spar partner, nothing too strenuous." Steve shrugged, "I'm not feeling it if I have ruined anything."

"You're also still young." Loki pointed out, "And the job you're applying for, isn't that physical labour?"

"Mostly, yeah. It'll be for Stark Industries." Steve ran a hand up through his hair, "It's going to be pretty crazy down there I think, from what I hear their employees are really highly valued and they have to put on a good public face because with the name Stark Industries attached anything I do could affect things."

"Uh huh, every company wants you to think their employees are valued. Just... don't do anything stupid, Steve."

Steve looked at Loki with slight confusion, "Are you... do you care what happens to me?"

"No but Thor does." Loki said bluntly. Steve knew better than to believe that, that Loki did care but wasn't going to admit it outright. "I'm just looking out for him because he'll follow you into stupidity."

"Right, of course." Steve walked into the bathroom, he had to be ready for this interview, it was one of the most important ones of his young life and if he could get onto the bottom rung he might be able to climb. His mother always told him to aim high and always do the best he could, he listened to her every chance he got. And at that moment Stark Industries was offering the best pay for the same amount of hours provided, Steve figured he might also be able to squeeze in some overtime if they'd let him. He'd take anything he could get but he still needed to aim higher than the lowest possible option.

Most of the time money didn't make a difference to him, money wasn't a big deal and he could always get by and very little. However the last two years of his life had been dismally unpleasant, his mother had gotten sick and spent one of those years in the hospital. Every day she was there, in that same bed, slowly getting worse. Steve did everything he could for her though nothing helped. Finally her pain was over and she had passed, when she did she left him with words of wisdom, made him promise her he'd do better for himself than low to lower middle class, and a boatload of debt.

A nice way to start of his promise but Steve accepted challenges with the same amount of strength he had physically. He swore to her he'd do better than he'd gotten; he'd be more than he was shown, and he'd always be a simple man. A promise is a promise and he knew she was still watching him from where she was now, holding his dad's hand, finally happy again. The imagery he had in his mind was more than enough to keep him going, but the added support from his friends really helped.

Steve's mind was swimming in thought, in what he'd say during his interview, all of the things that could go wrong and everything that might go right. He briefly had to stop and wonder what all the different products were for but he knew Thor's things when he saw them, decidedly avoiding all the stuff Loki generally used. Shampoo and conditioner was good enough for him.

Once cleaned up and in his interview clothes, gym gear stuffed into the bag he'd brought with, he stepped out and looked over at the two brothers sitting in the living room, by the look of it Thor had used the basement shower. Having two bathrooms was necessary when living in the same house as Loki, evidently. "How do I look?"

Thor burst out laughing.

Loki glanced over and cringed, "Really?"

"What?" Steve looked down at himself, brow knitted together as he searched for the issue. Nothing ever pleased Loki, he already knew this but still, he thought it looked pretty good.

"Here," The paler of the two Odinsons' rose and strolled across the room, grabbing his tie firmly and undoing it, "You have no idea how to tie one of these, do you?"

Thor chuckled from his place on the couch, "Does he _look_ like he knows how?"

Steve blushed slightly and shrugged, "I... well it came undone last time I washed it..." He offered the same smile he always did when he received the 'are you kidding me' expression. It never really seemed to work, especially not with Loki, but at least smiling made him feel a little less ridiculous for not knowing certain things. "I still can't believe I have to wear this for a physical labour interview."

"You said it yourself, Stark Industries is very much so about image. Even an interviewee needs to look the part." Loki explained and stepped back, admiring his handy work. "Good, you look as sharp as you're ever going to."

"Thanks," Steve sighed nervously, "Alright, wish me luck guys, I'm gonna start walking."

"Really?" Thor lowered the newspaper, "You immaculately groom yourself before a work out session at six in the morning, and then you will walk five miles to an interview in a suit and tie. You, my friend, are unbelievable."

"Just a bit," Steve winked before heading out the door. He didn't want to stay in one place for long, his nerves were on fire. Not only was the interview important but it was Stark Industries. He knew the name, he wasn't an idiot, he knew who owned it and the possibility of a run in. Steve swallowed nervously, his hands a little sweaty just thinking about it. He hadn't seen Tony since the airport when he all but ignored the guy. He'd expected Tony to return to school after that but he never did, even though Steve felt like an over-reacting teenaged girl and wanted to apologize for freaking out over something fairly trivial (it seemed trivial now that he was older), he couldn't. Tony was gone. The biggest questions in his head were 'what do I say if I see him?' and 'will it even matter?'

Obviously he was no longer angry, he'd long let it go and wanted to fix that part of his life, that one tormenting mistake. He not only let Tony get away, he pushed him away. If nothing else, even if Tony really was the sexual fiend that didn't wait for proper consent back in high school, he couldn't possibly be now. He couldn't possibly do anything to Steve now. The blonde had bulked up more than the toned muscle he'd had in high school. Granted he wasn't as big as Thor, he still rivalled the man in power. Tony couldn't possibly hurt him now so Steve had nothing to worry about. He could face Tony and apologize for the way things had ended. That was the least he could do.

Of course, assuming his tongue-tied nature wouldn't set in beforehand.

* * *

The trip to Stark Industries was a bit longer than he'd expected but he made it on time. Steve passed by a window that showed his reflection about as brilliantly as any mirror he'd seen. In quiet astonishment he quickly fixed himself up before walking inside, heart pounding as he approached the reception on the other side of the room. The lobby was enormous and beautifully decorated, he couldn't believe how new age it felt just walking inside.

"Hi," he smiled at the lady behind the desk, "Steve Rogers, I'm here for an interview."

The not-at-all-homely receptionist lowered her vogue-chic glasses down the bridge of her slender nose to take in the sight of the handsome, suit-clad young man in front of her. She smiled gracefully before she pulled up a calendar itinerary on her computer. "Ah, yes Mr. Rogers, right through those doors on left there, the interview process will start in about ten minutes."

"Thank you," Steve gave a quick wave before walking to the indicated doors. He wondered if it was really going to be on the main floor when he considered how large the building was, but he didn't question it. At least, not until he swung the doors open. The room was huge, not unlike one of the large atriums and theatres in a college or university. Steve gawked at how many people were present, nearly every seat was full. "Oh criminy..." he muttered as he wandered toward the front, eyeing the spaces until he found an empty seat. Of course, these types of places were not built for guys his size, and squeezing past everyone on the way to his seat inevitably included a lot of apologizing.

Finally reaching his seat Steve sighed and looked up at a large screen he knew would soon be lit up with crazy kinds of advertisements and everything else. The biggest question he had at that moment in time was how did he make himself stand out? And in a good and dignified way? Chances were that they would mostly be looking for a way to weed out the bad choices; he made a mental note to be on his best behaviour. For a moment it was working though he could almost hear his mom's voice in his head, not best behaviour, just be yourself. So that's what he went with instead.


	9. Chapter 9

**Zafona's Notes:**

**Hey guys just wanted to say thank you for those who have been reviewing :D We appreciate the feedback and would really like more if anyone has time to give it :) It helps us figure out what you might want to see or if there's something we missed et cetera. Anyway, hope you've been enjoying this so far, we're having a lot of fun writing it. **

* * *

Tony winced again as the cosmetician busied herself with his make-up. "Could you mind the bruises? ! Please?" He snapped at her, short of temper when faced with inconvenient pain. He curled and uncurled his fingers in an attempt to work out some of the tension.

She levelled him a patient look, "I'm sorry sir, but that's exactly what I'm minding. It's not easy to make _this much_ foundation look natural _and_ conceal the bruising."

"Tony," Pepper warned before the billionaire could retort, "She's the best, don't piss her off."

"I wasn't going to," Tony obstinately denied, "And since when is 'being the best' even a good enough reason for me to stop anything?"

"Well until you learn to do your own cosmetics at her skill level, you can just drop it," Pepper kindly informed him, in that stern manner that she was so good at portraying. Tony Stark had always been difficult, an enigma of victim and victimizer that she could never bring herself to blame, but never bring herself to pity either. And she suspected that was exactly how he wanted it.

"Fine, just as long as it doesn't show and she doesn't-" He winced again and caught the cosmetician's wrist with his good arm, "doesn't push on the bruises." He let her go and hopped out of the chair. He straightened out his shirt and took a look in the mirror. "It doesn't look half bad," he admitted honestly. "Although I think I'll still wear the sunglasses, just to be sure. It's bright on stage anyway."

Pepper sighed, carried his suit jacket over to him and helped him shrug it over his good arm while draping it over his casted left. "You look fine," she assured him. "You always shine under the spot light, and your charismatic way of speaking is more distracting than your appearance ever is."

"Really?" Tony turned to look at her, as though it was a surprise to him. "Are you saying I'm unattractive?"

Pepper offered a half smile, sarcastic at best, "You know that's not what I'm saying, Mr. Stark." Tony knew it was all business when she pulled out the 'mr stark.' "And you also know that there's no chance _that_ will ever happen.

"You can't blame a gorgeous, genius billionaire for trying."

"Yes I can. Now get out there." Pepper smiled reluctantly. Tony always made her smile; it was just something about him. She gave him a gentle nudge between the shoulder blades, urging him toward the stage.

Tony pulled his shades from his jacket pocket with a flourish and placed them on his face, effectively obscuring whatever remained visible of his black eye. The curtains were pulled apart as he approached, allowing him to walk straight on through to the auditorium stage as ACDC played over the loud speakers. He brought his right hand up to his lips and then out, extended in his customary 'peace' sign greeting to the packed auditorium.

Steve felt his heart flutter and nearly stop in his chest, a reaction he hadn't been expecting though seeing Tony was a shock this early on. He had expected the interview to be done by some other managerial type guy who'd be watching over all the physical labourers. Not Tony Stark himself. "Oh gosh..." he reminded himself to breathe as he watched Tony's strut across the stage. He would have felt very silly and light headed at the sight of his old lover if not for noticing the broken arm. _'He's hurt? How did he manage to...'_

"Greetings! And welcome to Stark Industries' Orientation 2012. Yes, you heard me right; this is your orientation to employment in my company." Tony let the murmur of the crowd run its course as he settled behind the podium with his cue cards. "Research has shown that the interview process used by companies in today's job market is only 26% effective in finding a suitable match of applicant and job description. So we thought: 'What is the point in wasting the resources on interviews when they'll just get weeded out along the way?' And just like that, you're hired. You should be receiving your hiring package later in the day. For now, I'll leave you with my welcome, and I hope you enjoy your time here at Stark Industries."

"_Hired_?" Steve gaped, completely stunned. Figures Tony would do something like this.

Tony waved once to the crowd again before departing backstage. "Who the hell wrote these?" He asked Pepper immediately, waving the cards inches from her nose.

"I think-"

"They're terrible, fire him." Tony removed his sunglasses again and pocketed them in his jacket. He shrugged the expensive coat off and dropped it over a chair back.

"Right, I'll get right on that. In the mean time," Pepper swallowed and diverted her eyes away from Tony, guilt eating at her mind as the bearer of bad news, "Mr. Stane requested that you see him in his office once you were done with the opening ceremony."

Tony stopped in his tracks, visibly paler than he was only thirty seconds ago. "Right," he said quietly. He knew Pepper was aware of what went on between him and Obadiah Stane, or at least he thought there was no way that she _couldn't_ know. But they never talked about it, not after the first time when he had made it perfectly clear that it was none of her business, that they were frankly not that close. She never mentioned a word of it to another soul, and she wouldn't mention anything now. Tony left the room without saying another word, and disappeared into the elevator.

* * *

Steve was more than impressed during the orientation, the opening parts were amazing, they were given the welcome package as promised, so many different hand books and safety guides that Steve's head was spinning. Not to mention the next speaker went over everything in detail, describing exactly what could get them fired or suspended and a number of other things. It went on for a few hours but he hardly noticed, his mind catching every piece that would be important and stowing it away for future needs. They would be under serious scrutiny for the next 3 months of their probationary period, he couldn't afford to be nervous anymore.

Lunch was next and he hadn't realized how hungry he was until they said the word. "Oh god yes." He stood up along with several others, suddenly hearing the familiar grumbling of his stomach. He needed food; he normally had eaten a snack or three by this point in the day so the sounds of his hunger weren't terribly quiet. "Sorry," he whispered in the line up at the cafeteria, feeling slightly embarrassed by it.

"No worries, buddy." Another guy laughed, patting him on the shoulder.

Lunch was amazing, just as amazing as everything else. And it was free. Steve at as much as they'd let him, which meant that since they never stopped him he ate until they had to get moving again. The guys sitting with him were astonished at how much he could pack away, several of them poking at his rock-hard stomach to check and see if it was fake and secretly he had a gut hiding under it. Steve got along with everyone there, anyone sitting with him felt a lot more confident about what they were doing than they had before the meal started.

The tour was next, all the new workers were marching along excitedly, especially the ones who decided to stick by Steve's side. One of them fidgeted and sighed heavily, "How can you guys be so excited? I can't figure out a way to be anything but nervous."

Steve smiled and rubbed his shoulder reassuringly, "Nervous is a form of excited, you know. You just have to stop being scared."

"Easy for you to say, I bet they'll keep you around as eye candy if nothing else." Another man laughed, jabbing at Steve's side.

"Hey, I'll pull my weight and yours probably." Steve grinned, feeling the sense of camaraderie already.

As the tour went on and he got to see his work station, they were split into smaller groups and taken to the upper levels where they might be sent once in a while. Steve made sure to be on his best behaviour as he went, not wanting to stick out too much. He glanced toward a fairly important looking office, just a side glance, when he spotted Tony. At first he felt that same little flutter but it stopped abruptly when he saw the limp, the awful limp Tony was walking with. _'Something is wrong here.'_ He thought anxiously, something in his stomach starting to tie it in knots.

If he wanted a proper chance to talk to Tony he'd have to ensure his job security first, falling behind the tour was not the way to do that, so he hurried off.

They were given the opportunity, once everything in orientation had ended, to start early. I could have been a test but Steve didn't notice anyone being penalized for deciding to start the following day instead. However he wasn't the type to go and relax if he could start right away, so he moved to his supervisor's side, "Excuse me, I only have this one suit and I don't want to ruin it, is there anything around that I could change into for working?"

The guy smiled widely and looked him up and down, "What's your name, kid?"

"Steve Rogers, sir." He wanted to argue that being 25 didn't make him a kid but decided against it, figuring this man was probably in his forties or fifties and anyone was a kid to him.

"Rogers, you're a smart guy, I like that. We've got gear for all shapes and sizes, no one has to work in their suit." He pointed Steve toward the room, "Remember which one it was in the work station area?"

"Yessir, the locker room, right?" Steve started that way, glancing to make sure he wasn't entirely wrong.

"That's right; your locker number should be written in your welcome package. See you on the floor, Rogers."

"Thank you, sir." Steve saluted like he always did to his dad's picture every morning and hurried off, excitement growing in him with every step. He finally had a legitimate job and his supervisor already liked him. Good start.

* * *

The day ended and Steve immediately called Bucky as he hurried out the doors, his suit on though not as neatly as it had been the first time. He just needed to go home in some clothing and clearly this would have to do.

"Hello," Bucky's voice drawled over the ear piece. He wasn't slow, but he did like to take things easy. And having Steve on the other line wasn't his top priority after that morning.

"Bucky! Bucky guess what!" Steve exclaimed as he trotted down the street back to his place, the one he shared rent with his best friend who he couldn't wait to see before telling him.

"Oh, I have a guess," Bucky straightened in his computer chair, "You forgot that I was picking you up after your interview."

"It wasn't an interview! It was orientation!" The blonde was so giddy; even despite having worked a full day's worth after the entire orientation and workout that morning. He had energy to spare and excitement to burn off. "I was hired! I'm working at Stark Industries!"

Bucky stood up quickly, sending his chair spinning backwards away from his desk, "Seriously?! Steve, that's awesome!"

"We need to celebrate, once I get home let's invite Thor and Loki over, if that's okay?"

"Hell yeah! But you're buying; you owe me for leaving me hanging this morning. Job or no job, that ain't cool, dude." Bucky smiled, it was all in jest, and he knew Steve would feel bad about it, but it was just too much fun.

"I'm so sorry!" Steve ran his hand down his face, "I was in the orientation all day and I... then I worked after and I'm sorry. I'll make it up to you, promise."

Bucky laughed, "Don't even worry about it Steve. I waited for maybe fifteen minutes, and I thought for sure that you'd call me and give me heck for not waiting longer. I'll see ya when you get home."

"Yeah, see you then." Steve beamed and hung up, excitement built up in him and he felt like it might burst out in a tangible form. Everything was looking up.

* * *

Thor quietly and contemplatively placed the phone back in its cradle. "Brother," Thor called as he ventured into the living room, "It seems as though Steve has already been hired, we are invited to his residence for celebration this evening." Thor's brow remained furrowed as his mind was evidently elsewhere.

Loki looked up from his personal crafting project, papier-mâché having made quite the mess in his closed off space. He was sitting on a floor made of newspaper as he patiently crafted what he had explained to be a Halloween mask, he was doing it much earlier than necessary but when a mind has an idea it's necessary to delve into it before the muse is lost. "That sounds like good news... so why do you look like it isn't? What's wrong, Thor?"

"Hm? Oh, it is probably nothing. I never imagined that Steve would acquire a position with that company. It worries me." Thor glanced at a picture of Steve on the mantle –it had always bothered his friend that Thor kept a picture of him. As much as the foreigner had tried to explain to Steve that it was simply their culture –family and close friends should be honoured, Steve had insisted that it still creeped him out. "He had mentioned a Stark once some time ago, in passing, and the memory seemed to me a wound of Steve's. I doubt this company is unrelated."

"Oh?" Loki's attention was caught, "Well if it still bothers him now we'll probably notice it when we go over there." He secretly hoped it would pop up, Steve was the embodiment of perfect and if he had a sore spot for someone named Stark, Loki wanted to know why. The guy wasn't even mad when Loki broke his bedroom mirror, repeatedly, on purpose. Always forgiving and it drove the raven haired male insane sometimes. This might be a golden opportunity to get into that stupid blonde head.

"Whatever the case, shall we go? We mustn't keep them waiting, lest all the pizza be devoured before we arrive." Thor moved to the entrance, and began strapping on his boots.

Loki looked at the boots, recognizing them as Thor's 'I'm going for a walk' footwear and sighed, finding his similar ones. "Can't we drive? It's autumn and it's cold out there."

"No brother, walking is good for you, as is the clean air. You cannot stay curled up indoors all the time, it is not good for you." Thor hopped up to his feet and clapped the non-existent dirt from the back of his thighs. "Let us be off."

Thor was well aware of his brother's aversion to walking, but Steve and Bucky's apartment wasn't far from their own house, and insisted that driving would be a waste. He hadn't been aware of how much longer the walk would feel with Loki's incessant whining.

Thor pushed the buzz code for Steve's apartment and waited –if somewhat impatiently, for someone to answer.

The intercom crackled and Steve's voice came over the line, "Hello?"

"It is not at all freezing out here, but if it was I would have broken in by now."

There was a soft chuckle, "Thor, your patience rivals that of masters." The door buzzed loudly and Loki took that opportunity immediately, having half a mind to close it on his brother though Thor was just as excited to get inside so closing it before Thor got in was impossible at best.

The night carried on very casually, claps on the back, pizza devoured and a few drinks passed around. Steve rarely drank anything but he partook this time, one beer with the guys, that was it. He couldn't stomach any more than that, couldn't handle losing control. It was something he hadn't explained to anyone, not even Bucky. How could he really? He'd told his mother and she was the only one who needed to know other than himself and Tony. It was scary to know what he was like when his inhibitions let go, there was truly nothing stopping him from going ahead and ignoring his usual morals. And that bothered him.

Things were fun and loose enough, Loki had decided to ask. "So you think you'll get more face time with the owner? The guy is pretty famous, all over the media a lot of the time."

Thor didn't miss a snake in the grass when he saw one. Loki was conniving, and always in control. He was fishing for information, for what exactly Thor wasn't sure. The larger man thought to himself that he would allow Loki to indulge his mischievous curiosities –this time.

Steve fiddled with his only half empty bottle and shrugged, "Uh... well maybe, maybe not. Not sure I want to, I do but I don't."

Loki raised an eyebrow, "You seem uncomfortable, Steve. Why would you not want to meet your boss?"

"Well that... I mean..." Steve glanced at his friends, all curious and looking at him. He couldn't _not_ tell them at this point, could he? Not that he had to go into details. "I used to go to school with him." He admitted, glancing at Bucky, "You remember that, right? Grade 12 year was hell with him as a group partner."

Bucky looked thoughtful for just a moment before cracking into a smile, "That jerk? He was nothing but hell to work with –even back then it was easier to work _for_ him rather than _with_ him. It sucked about his dad though." Bucky took another swig from his bottle, interested in Steve's work stories.

Steve looked at his friend curiously, his mouth starting to form words though he was quickly cut off by Loki. "What about his-"

"So you think it'll be awkward?" Loki prodded gently. "Upset that he was obnoxious and is now your boss, might rub it in your face?"

"No, I don't think he'll do that." Steve shook his head quickly, "It... uhm..." His cheeks flushed a little, "We had a... a thing at one point. It didn't end well."

Loki sat forward, "No way, you had sex before you were married? Steve, I'm surprised at you."

Steve's face was that familiar temperature of way too hot as he stared down at his bottle, remembering Tony the first time they touched, the little heated moments between them, kissing and getting frisky in the Louvre... It had been one of the best times of his life, at least before the end of it. "I did." He admitted, "It uh... Can I not talk about this? Please?"

Loki had what he wanted and waved it off easily, "Oh of course, sorry to bring up bad memories, I didn't know." He was too good at lying, the only one capable of knowing that he was doing so was Thor, and that was only true if Thor caught that Loki had pushed the subject that direction on purpose.

"It's alright, Loki." Steve smiled and glanced down at the last slice of pizza, figuring it had been left there as a sort of 'who's going to have the nerve to take it. He didn't really so he left it there, he'd eaten plenty earlier that day at the provided lunch (best lunch ever).

Thor didn't miss Steve's deliberate abandonment of the final slice –and if the man at the center of the celebration didn't want it, then it was fair game. The larger blonde snatched it up, pizza box and all.

Loki rolled his eyes, "Pig."

The rest of the evening went on without a hitch, Steve and Bucky said goodnight to their guests, Loki complained the colder walk home. Everything was about right. Steve readied himself for bed and curled up in the sheets, eyes closed tightly, ready for tomorrow, ready for the next day at work and a new chance to prove himself. Of course, as he laid in the dark his memories kicked in again, every little thing that had made Tony so endearing coming back to him.

Tony looked good, other than the broken arm. Good? That didn't do it justice. Tony was gorgeous; Steve wasn't too stubborn to keep himself from admitting that. His eyes were behind a pair of sunglasses though; Steve really wished he could have seen them, he loved Tony's eyes. Brown pools he could lose himself in, cute and capable of seeing much more than Steve even knew existed. He missed them. His heart ached thinking about it, his first time taken in a drunken haze, a planned drunken haze... It was supposed to be special because Steve wanted everything with Tony to be special, he didn't want anything marring their relationship but that was a stupid goal. Everything had flaws, it takes a bigger man to look past them and he failed there. He failed and Tony was gone.

Steve willed himself asleep, not letting his mind dwell on it any longer. If he met with Tony, truly spoke to him, then they'd fix it. Until then he'd just let things flow as they were.


	10. Chapter 10

Tony slowly sank into the blistering hot bath, cringing every inch of the way. Once fully submerged he had to angle himself to rest majority of his weight on his shoulders and upper tailbone to avoid additional and unnecessary bouts of pain, keeping his garbagebag-clad cast out of the water as best he could. He let out a pained sigh and shut his swollen, tear-reddened eyes. It had been eight years since his father passed away. Eight agonizingly long years of enduring Obadiah's... Tony couldn't bear to think about it. He just wanted it to go away; just wanted to will the pain to stop.

The water turned cold before Tony dragged himself from the bath and wrapped himself in a terry cloth robe. He paused in front of the mirror, inspecting his black eye, bruised cheek bones, and marked throat. He was a mess, a horrid, pathetic mess. Obadiah loved to go for his face, so long as suspicions were low; a constant reminder that Tony had nothing to be proud of, especially not his looks. Tony knew his midsection probably looked worse than his face and didn't care to see it reflected back to him.

He engaged in self-talk, reminding himself that it wasn't always this bad, and that it couldn't always be this bad. It was just a matter of time, Obadiah wouldn't wait forever, and eventually Tony would be able to undermine his father's old business partner's holdings in the company. Any moves made before then and he risked losing everything. Tony already felt like he had nothing, that he'd lost everything once before, and the thought of losing whatever he had left terrified him.

Tony retired to the penthouse on the top floor of the tower, having lost all energy required to transport himself anywhere else. Sleep would be a sweet relief from the waking world, and he wasted no time in disappearing under the covers and shutting himself down.

* * *

The months that followed were tough, Steve had known they would be. Stark Industries' weeding out process wasn't as normal as one would expect, and once in a while they would throw a proverbial 'monkey-wrench' into an employee's station simply to see how they would react. Steve had seen so many people fail the test and he had feared for when it would come his way. He had calmed his mind and had told himself that there was no way they could test every single new employee in those three months, but if it came to him he'd just have to wait and see because every reaction that he saw until that point was all spur of the moment –pure relex.

Sure enough his day came, alright. But it wasn't just him, the entire assembly line started to go down -something had gone severely wrong with the equipment. Steve was right there when it happened; a massive chunk of one of those huge machines had started to topple over after part of it blew out. One of the wires holding it secure snapped free, the last two starting to do the same. Steve grabbed them firmly and started pulling the thing back to its rightful position, fighting against the momentum caused by the minor explosion inside the mechanism.

Many of the people on his line had panicked but he didn't, feet planted as firmly in place as he could make them, as he felt the thing dragging and pulling him along. "Get out of the way! Everyone on assembly 23 evacuate! Single file toward the exit!" He shouted at the line as he strained to keep everything sounding calm and collected. He was, of course, exactly that except for the fact that this thing was getting harder and harder to hold off.

The panicked crowd immediately listened to the shouted orders; it was a semblance of order and control in a situation that scared the hell out of them. Steve was going to order someone to help him though a few guys from the other assemblies hopped over rapidly to help him hold off the massive metal machine-turned-hammer until everyone was safely out of the way. After it was clear they let it fall.

Steve gasped and looked at the two guys on either side of him with a slight laugh, all three astonished though the two looking at him were more admiring than anything else. His supervisor hurried to him, "Rogers, you alright? Did you break something?"

"No... no I don't think so." Steve moved several muscles before wincing, "Might've pulled something..."

"Alright, get to the nurses and have yourself checked out." The man laughed and shook his head, "What the hell Rogers? Where did you come from?"

Steve smiled and walked out, still a little dazed from the incident. Clearly that hadn't been his test but that sure as hell was good enough to keep him as an employee. He didn't think he'd have to worry much about being surprised at all.

* * *

'_We rock at dawn on the front line_

_Like a bolt right out of the blue_

_The sky's alright with the guitar fight_

_Heads will roll and rock tonight_

_For those about to rock! We salute you!_

_For those about to rock! We salute you!_'

Tony imperceptibly nodded his head to the music; ACDC had always been one of his favourite bands, as he completed the micro-weld on his latest circuit board. He placed the burner and needle point back on the steel work desk and dragged the weld goggles over his forehead before inspecting his work. Perfection –it was always perfect, because that's what Tony Stark did. He smiled to himself, proud of this prototype product.

Even during working hours, this is where he preferred to be –in his workshop, with all his tools, toys, and gadgets. Away from people. With the removal of that irritating cast the week before, Tony had been quick to vanish into his shop, months behind his innumerable projects both personal and work related. He was fairly certain he was safe from any more breaks for a while, in Obadiah's own words, he couldn't keep the 'golden goose' injured for too long. Which meant that it was time to crank out some new designs.

JARVIS cut the music, "Sir, there's a call for you on line one. Something about a catastrophic workplace accident."

Tony sighed, nothing short of irritated. "Thank you JARVIS, patch it through."

"As you wish, sir." JARVIS' voice blinked out and the telephone line was linked to the room's speaker system.

"Tony speaking."

The voice that came over the speaker was rough, and Tony surmised that it was probably one of the foremen or lead hands in the plant. "Mr. Stark, there was a catastrophic failure in motorized CNC on assembly line 23-"

Tony cut him off, "So why are you talking to me about it?"

The man on the other line seemed unfazed, "It was the craziest thing. This new kid on the line leapt into action like some kind of superhero. He jumped onto the machine and grabbed the stabilizing cables, one of which had already snapped, and single handedly held the machine in place. The damn thing was toppling, could've killed half the assembly crew. He even barked orders to get them under control and out of the way."

Tony was silent for a moment –that was an impressive feat, especially for a new recruit. 80% of them were fired during their first term. "I'll repeat myself this once, why are you talking to me about it?"

"It's the same kid who won the 'Recruit of the Month' award these last two months. You're supposed to present the award to the employee personally, and we're getting a plaque together to commemorate his efforts today. It's important for staff morale to see you engaging with them, and see the company congratulating extraordinary behaviour. I'd like it if you came in and did your job, that's why I'm talking to you about it."

"JARVIS, drop the call." Tony stood up from his work bench, shedding the goggles and welder sleeves and dropped them onto the bench. "Notify the office that I'm coming in, and get me the whereabouts of this employee. And a name." Tony left the shop for a quick shower and shave, and departed for Stark Tower –the last place he really wanted to be that day.

Tony was immediately bombarded upon his arrival, several of the board executives had clipboards in hand, the media was outside waiting for the scoop on the workplace hero, and Pepper was there to fend them off. She quickly curtailed the media, leaving them behind at the door, and assured the execs that Tony would attend to the board issues once he was finished with other matters.

She quickly ushered him down the halls toward the infirmary. "Where in the world have you been?" She asked him sternly, "You're ages behind in the board room."

"Not at all unusual, and I'm sure you've been doing a fantastic job," Tony replied easily.

"Here," Pepper handed Tony a folder, ignoring his shirk of responsibility.

"What's this?" Tony took the paper files and started flipping through them.

"It's Steve's file. There's the three months of 'Recruit of the Month' awards, and an additional bonus for winning that recognition for every month of his probation. We also have his re-sign forms for permanent employment, as well as a raise and promotion in honour of his heroic efforts today. You should also inform him that he will be receiving a commemoration plaque in his honour."

"Wow, that's a lot of recognition for one guy." Tony didn't even blink an eye at the name –there were hundreds of people in New York with the name Steve.

Tony pushed open the door to the infirmary, letting himself in to the first aid room's assessment center, only to find the assessment still in progress. The attending on-site physician had Steve's shirt over the back of the waiting chair, and was looking over the man's musculature to ensure the absence of sprains and strains.

Tony nearly choked on his own surprise, it was so palpable. Steve was Steve Rogers, _his_ Steve Rogers from high school. And now here he was, an outstanding and highly recognized up and coming employee at Stark Industries. A hundred questions bombarded his mind, how had Steve been, was he still mad, what should he say, what would Steve say, did he apply here on purpose –and asking any of these did Tony absolutely no good when he was already face to face with the other man. The other very well built and well kept man... with his shirt off.

Tony cleared his throat, "Steve, good to see you alive and well." _Really? That's all you have, after all of these years?_

Blue eyes snapped over to the doorway, he'd thought he noticed it open but wasn't sure until he heard it click shut again, and of course the sound of the other man's voice. In those few seconds his heart nearly stopped, there was Tony. He was very well aware that he must've looked like a deer in the headlights, eyes bugged open and mouth gaping just enough to be noticeable. "Uh... uh hi, Tony." _'Wow, you are a smooth man, Rogers. Smooth- Shut up me.'_ The statement from his old classmate made him wonder, Tony might've thought him dead? Or had hoped he'd never see him again. That was probably more likely, Tony had all the resources in the world, he could probably find Steve easily. It was a matter of wanting to and obviously he didn't.

"Hi," Tony answered casually. He didn't miss the shock on Steve's face. It had been far too long since Tony had seen those bright blue eyes, and it felt longer still since he'd seen anything other than wrath on that perfectly sculpted face. It made his heart flutter in his chest, only to have the harsh reminder that he'd royally screwed it up knot his stomach in reply. Tony wished he could apologize to Steve, wished he could spill his guts and that it would erase his mistakes. Maybe then he could ask Steve for help. But his pride would have nothing to do with that plan in the least, not to mention the slim chances of Steve forgiving such a transgression.

Steve swallowed nervously and felt his cheeks heating up as he realized the first time Tony saw him again was when he was topless and another person feeling up his muscles and checking his body over. He was fairly happy that the check had already been done on his legs and he'd been permitted to put his pants back on, that didn't make him less embarrassed, especially when the doctor briefly grazed a nipple while checking his chest. It was too weird see Tony so close after all that time. "How are you?" He finally asked, feeling like _something_ needed to be said.

"Never been better," Tony lied through his teeth. Steve had always been quite good at picking up on a lie, but Tony had always been quite good at lying. Almost as though on cue, his weak arm acted up, and Tony switched the folder over to his right hand to keep from dropping it. It took time to build up muscle strength after removing a cast, and Tony knew he'd already strained it by burying himself in his shop.

"Yeah, that's good..." Steve noted immediately that Tony hadn't actually bothered to make conversation, just curtly answering Steve's small-talk questions but never asking any in return or trying to keep the conversation going. _'Guess I shouldn't expect anything else...'_ He thought sadly, _'I did freak out on him last we spoke, last thing I had said to him was 'I'm not talking to you' so I guess he's sticking to that? I don't know. This is so awkward. Say something, Steve! Anything, just... stop being so tense and weird.'_ Of course nothing came to mind.

"I see we're at no shortage of social awkwardness, so I'm just going to breeze through this," Tony lifted the folder up, showing it to Steve, and opened it once more. "For Steven Rogers, this certificate is to commemorate you on a job well done. Welcome to Stark Industries, and we wish you all the best in the future, Employee of the Month." Tony lifted the first sheet and placed it on the medical table next to Steve. "Another one here, 'For Steven Rogers, this certificate is to commemorate you on a job well done'. Second month of employment, and Recruit of the Month." Tony placed the second certificate on top of the first. "You're on a roll here, Steve, it's quite impressive," Tony commented with a smirk.

"Thank you. And... I'm sorry for the awkward... I didn't expect you to walk in on this." Steve looked down at the certificates but somehow felt like he was being hit in the face. Tony was in a hurry to get away from him, he could tell. But what about his arm? Why had it been broke at the start of the opening ceremonies? And the way he was limping and the sunglasses inside? Steve was almost certain that those sunglasses were hiding something, the front of the room couldn't have been that bright and Tony was _that_ much of a douche that he'd wear them to say hello for two seconds. He watched Tony carefully, his heart skipping in his chest as he gazed at the brown eyes that used to pull him in. Why had he been so stupid? Why did Tony have to plan something so awful like that club in Paris? Everything had been going so well...

"Employee of the Month for the third month running, congratulations and all of that," Tony placed the third sheet on top of the previous two. "And as a congratulations on achieving recruit of the month for all three of your probationary months, here is a bonus cheque for you, based on your training wage, for an additional one thousand hours worked. And we have your permanent contract here, adjusted to give you a raise and promotion based on your performance, so if you could just sign here:" Tony extended the paper and a pen for Steve.

Steve signed as instructed then handed it back his brain not really kicking into gear and recognizing all of the promotions and things he just received. He was busy thinking about Tony, glancing at Tony's arm, "Are you okay?" He shoved his stupid pride aside, something had happened and Tony was being strange, way stranger than he remembered. Of course, the few years that had passed could definitely change a man, Steve was different too, but Tony was way too different. Something had happened.

Tony looked like he'd just been slapped in the face. Fear briefly flickered across his eyes, mirroring the thoughts whirling through his mind. _Did Steve know? Was he worried? Did he still care? Was it that obvious?_ Tony fought for composure, and tried to dismiss it, "Of course, why wouldn't I be?"

Not that it was his place to ask but concern overpowered social normalcy and he spoke up. "You were hurt back in the opening ceremonies," he wanted to add 'I saw you limping' but decided against it, "Carrying that stuff looks like it's a chore, did you hurt it again?" He looked at Tony's arm, hoping he wasn't pushing his bounds too far.

"Oh that?" Tony spoke quickly, almost nervously, "That was just an unfortunate tennis injury. I was playing against Obadiah –I'm sure they introduced him during one of the orientation seminars; he's this huge, ape of a man. Anyway, I tripped and landed stupid. So: cast." Tony prayed Steve bought it, that Steve didn't see right through him, didn't notice the rapid and rambling reply. Of course, praying would work a lot better if he actually _believed_ in something.

It was bullshit, it was all bullshit and Steve could see it immediately. Someone was hurting Tony, the man wouldn't show fear like he'd been doing if he had nothing to hide, if had actually hurt himself playing tennis. But Tony didn't want to tell him and if Steve knew anything about these kinds of things, and he'd had a few experiences, he'd learned to never push it. Pushing a little was okay but pushing until something broke was never the right answer. So for now he'd let it go, at least a little bit. The doctor looked between the two and hit a few keys on his computer, "I'm be printing a muscle report, I'll be back in a moment."

"Sure thing," Steve smiled as the man left then looked up at Tony with gentle eyes, "Well if you ever wanted to tell me more about the tennis match, I'm more than willing to listen." He had a feeling the 'someone' hurting Tony would be that ape of a man, the big bald one that he'd gotten a bad feeling from during orientation.

Tony could've wrung the man's neck. He hadn't changed one single bit: he was still the soft-hearted, caring person he'd always been. It was heart wrenching, knowing that he'd lost that, that he'd messed that up. And Steve was still offering to help, and he saw right through it and didn't push it. It was a small consolation to know that Tony hadn't destroyed that in Steve, and for that he was grateful. "Thanks, I'll keep that in mind." He didn't want to shut Steve out, he wanted the exact opposite –but he couldn't bring himself to expose so much.

Steve could see the discomfort in Tony and knew he'd made the right choice in not shoving the situation off a cliff by asking further. His curiosity and need to help people could get him into hot water sometimes, and the last thing he wanted to do was ruin a chance to get closer to Tony. Of course, seeing Tony now, the genius was very much so not a people person, not actually. It'd take a while before he could say anything. "Are you the one who has to give these to me or is this because I saved a few people?" Steve gestured toward the rewards he'd been given, hoping it'd be a decent change of subject and a little lighter.

"Well when you say it like that it just sounds like a pain in the ass," Tony scoffed, but he was smiling. "I personally present all of the major awards issued to employees. Stark Industries is a big place, and I'm usually only down on the factory for the recruit awards –employee of the month awards are companywide, and usually go to someone on the research team." Tony cursed himself for business talk –it was habit, but it was so impersonal, and the absolute last thing he wanted to talk to Steve about. "Anyway, I should get back. Congrats again, keep up the good work." Tony gave Steve a curt wave and a nod, and proceeded out of the first aid room, passing the returning doctor on his way.

"Alright, thank you. Bye Tony." Steve watched Tony leave the room, left sitting there with more questions and concerns and a small pile of rewards for his efforts. He looked down at it and smiled a little, Tony had to present these things himself, Tony had to approach him and congratulate him for a job well done possibly every three months or so. That was more than enough incentive for him to do his best. The better he did the more rewards he'd get and the more often he'd _have_ to see Tony. Maybe then, during one of those other times he'd be able to say more than 'hi Tony', maybe an apology would finally leave his mouth for over reacting and being a child.

* * *

**Zafona's Notes:**

**Thanks again guys, really :) We appreciate the support and hope you're enjoying the story. I'd love to hear more feedback from you, let us know how we're doing ;) **


	11. Chapter 11

The following few months could only be described as the most productive months for that part of the assembly in Stark Industries. During that time Steve had noticed that the job field hadn't been entirely kind to his friends. Thor had been laid off along with the entire work force he'd been a part of, they went out of business despite their best efforts. Bucky had been seriously hating on his job and Steve decided to ask them the night after Thor's dismissal.

"So... if I put in a good word for you guys, think you'd want to work on the factory floor with me?" He smiled brightly at them, "Pay is amazing."

Thor mulled over the thought while nursing his ale, his brow knit in s gentle furrow. "You know it is bad luck to hire an employee of a business that went under."

Bucky laughed, "Thor, no offense, but that is the most superstitious BS I have ever heard. Steve, I'll quit my job so fast, you'd think I was unemployed for the last month. You land me a job at Stark Industries and I'll be there in a heartbeat."

Steve smiled brightly, "Awesome! I'll let you know how it goes, gotta ask my supervisor but I doubt it'll be an issue."

It took about that much. Steve asked his foreman about it, stating these were two of his friends and that they worked as hard as he did, the foreman was sold and within a few days Bucky and Thor had jobs right alongside their best friend. And they were quite the dream team.

One day Steve glanced at his friends as they walked into the work area, his smile bright and challenging, "Bet I can get my line to do more work than yours."

Bucky outright _sneered_ at the notion, "You know Thor and I are on the same line, right? You are so dead, you don't even know."

"And you guys didn't save anyone's lives, good luck psyching up the rest of your line." He winked before pushing the doors open.

And that was it, the game was on and it was deadly. Steve was already a known hero and so his assembly was overly excited to help him out in this little game. If Steve thought they could do it then they did not want to disappoint him. He'd saved some of their lives, working themselves to the bone was the least they could for one day.

"You're slowing down, Thor!" Steve laughed as he worked, noting the other man's team looked as intense as his own.

"And you are wasting time observing other lines!" Thor shot back, picking up the pace despite the heavy sheen of sweat across his brow.

It didn't take long after that for the entire assembly floor of that part of the Industry to be caught up in the air of competition; working as hard as they could to prove who could have the most done by the end of the day. It was the greatest thing the supervisor had ever witnessed in his thirty years of service and it was all thanks to that young man, Steve Rogers. Incredible kid, that one. He doubted he'd have to change the email every month stating who the top employee in his section was. He wondered if Steve might have even beat out other employees –corporate employees, of the entire company employee roster. It was an interesting thought; he'd definitely vouch for the guy if asked.

Despite that day being the first day of the month it was already a given that Steve would win the employee of the month award, at least in his management's eyes. Steve laughed once the end of day bell had gone and the systems were being cleaned up, he leaned forward and wheezed briefly before looking over at his friends, "Time to see who won!" He called before heading to the computers at the end of his line, it kept track of how much had been done during the day and usually logged it away for the higher ups if they wanted a peek at the numbers.

Bucky and Thor eagerly joined Steve to review the product logs. Thor playfully jabbed Steve in the shoulder, "If you're ahead by less than 5 units, I still say you lost –you have at least three months experience on us."

"We don't need a handicap, Thor!" Bucky protested vehemently –if there was one thing friends were good for, it was competitiveness.

Steve grinned widely, "Hey, if Bucky says no handicap then no handicap." And then gave a low whistle and looked at his team, "I think we beat the record for usual work done in this entire factory level, let alone this line! Great job guys!" he high fived a few guys and accepted a hug or two, "You're amazing, go take a shower and sleep, you earned it."

"We need to know if we won," One of his men smirked and Steve waved his hand.

"I guess," He glanced at his friends though not entirely concerned with who had beaten who. He'd been in the mood to work his ass off that day and a contest was the best way to go about it so he wouldn't be left standing there and trying to cheer on his team.

Of course, after calculating the numbers, Steve had won; Thor's line a close second, by approximately two items. Steve clapped his hands and cheered with his team, it still felt awesome to win.

"What was that about a handicap?" Thor looked at Bucky smugly, knowing they would have had the unofficial victory if Steve had accepted the handicap proposal.

"Shut up, you sore loser."

* * *

Bruce walked up to Tony's office, a few papers in hand as he carried the recent research results from the lab. It wasn't a big deal, just minor results and things but he still needed Tony's signature before he could continue the experiments. He was the head of the bio-engineering section of Stark Industries, that company had its hands in everything and Bruce was fairly proud to be a leader in parts of it.

He was about to open the door when he heard something inside, a crash and what sounded like Obadiah Stane having a shit-fit. Bruce stepped behind where the door would swing open his way, one of the few doors in the buildings that opened out instead of in. He closed his eyes as the door stopped before it hit him; he briefly caught the handle to let it linger a little longer so he could stay out of Stane's sight for a few seconds more. Once the large bald man had gone, Bruce inched inside. Not a lot of people knew about what Obadiah did to Tony but Bruce was one of the few fortunate ones to have seen it on more than one occasion.

A muffled whine drifted from the office. Beyond the door Tony was laid out on the floor, attempting to double over on himself and failing miserably. His forearm was raised to his mouth to mute his cries and avoid attracting unwanted attention.

"Tony?" Bruce hurried across the room to his boss' and friend's side; kneel next to the genius who had been laid out on the office floor. From the look of it he'd only received one punch to the torso; his face was undamaged this time. "Hey, you're alright." He smiled reassuringly, lifting Tony's shirt to check for bruising or serious internal bleeding. He'd seen it before, the ungodly state Tony's torso was in, as a man who had been a doctor for a little while he took it upon himself to check Tony out and make sure he wasn't dying. He wasn't, thank god, but that didn't mean repeated assaults would be good for him.

Tony's reply was muffled, lost to incoherence by the time it escaped the sleeve of his shirt. He moved to assist Bruce in righting himself, wincing in pain as his torso shifted unfavourably. "Yeah," he answered after a moment, "I'm alright."

"Why haven't you called the police or something?" Bruce asked after helping Tony up again, putting him in his office chair.

"You know I can't," Tony replied helplessly. "He's practically a co-CEO at this point, and until he either dies or I manage to buy him out, he's here to stay –and before you start in about putting him away," Tony cringed again as he held his hand to his injured side, "U.S. law allows you to be in full control of your financial assets while in prison, and Obadiah has a better relation with the board of directors –or has them all under his thumb slash black mailed slash beaten into submission. Reporting him wouldn't do a damn thing but make it worse."

Bruce sighed heavily, he could see what this was, he knew full well what it was; Tony was stuck in an abusive relationship that he believed fully could not be changed until Obadiah died. The man was older but not in bad shape, he probably wouldn't die of natural causes for another 20 years, if Bruce had to guess. Tony would just wait it out, too. It was annoying and bothersome but the scientist truly had no control over Tony other than telling him exactly what he could see. And he'd done it before, had outright said 'you're just scared' but spouting his honest feelings hadn't changed any of it either. Tony had to want to help himself, Bruce believed. Or someone else would have to take seriously dramatic actions. Sadly, and Bruce was ashamed to know this, he wasn't that man.

"Sir," JARVIS cut in once there was a break in the conversation, "It appears as though you are required to give an employee a new plaque for getting three months in a row as the Stark Employee of the month."

"Again?" Tony sighed, why did time have to fly and stand still at the same time?

"Stark Employee of the Month?" Bruce repeated with a soft laugh, "This person beat everyone in the whole company three months in a row? Who is this guy?"

"Steven Rogers." JARVIS replied.

"Huh... Sounds like the guy we went to high school with," Bruce mused, "He was always an over achiever. You gonna go and give it to him? You think you can move?"

"Yeah, it's the same guy," Tony confirmed, a smirk coming over his features. Poor Bruce, that science diorama had been a nightmare. It was hard to believe after all that time had passed he was actually good friends and colleagues with the man. "And yes, I can move."

"Rogers?" Bruce chuckled at the question as if it were truly funny. "Maybe, just maybe, he's gone blind and he won't." He shook his head, "I'll get you to sign this stuff when you get back."

"Thanks, I'll be back shortly."

* * *

**Zafona's Notes:**

******Thanks again to those who are reading this :) I see you little favouriters over there XD sneaking into our story and stealing it away without saying hi first lol This chapter was a bit shorter but I hope you enjoyed it anyway :)**


	12. Chapter 12

**Zafona's Notes:**

**Okay it was brought up by someone that matsu and I screwed up the entire Paris thing, apparently we suck at research (or I do, she was lazy). For that we apologize. I hope it doesn't ruin the rest of the story for you (admittedly we didn't really think anyone who knew Paris/France would read this story lol)**

**But thank you guys :D I appreciate you silent favouriters coming clean about it and am really glad you said something, we're attempting to incorporate your concerns and I hope this chapter does the story justice :)**

* * *

Pepper had given Tony a tongue lashing in lieu of the way he had delivered Steve's previous plaque. The reward for recruit of the month and employee of the month was supposed to be highly publicized, a celebratory congratulations. Sneaking in to the infirmary was apparently a no-go. Thus Tony found himself walking –slowly, to the assembly lunch room, folder in hand. He wondered if he would be able to pull off a cane as stylish, kind of like House. It would certainly be helpful at a time like this, but Tony dismissed the notion as quickly as it came. He didn't need to look weak when he felt weak enough.

"Good afternoon," Tony called out over the din of conversation that consumed the lunchroom. The workers quickly fell silent once the source of the greeting was identified. Tony made his way to the head of the lunch hall, bracing his weight on a nearby table for support. "I'm here to give an honorary recognition to one of the assembly workers here with us today. This individual has only been with Stark Industries for a short time, but in that time he has proven to be an indispensible asset. During his first three months in the probationary phase, he had earned 'Recruit of the Month' for every month, making him the first new hire in Stark Industries history to do so." Tony paused for the customary round of applause, many of the workers already knew who he was here for, and apparently Steve was well –liked by his peers.

Steve's eyes were trained on the CEO intently, _'Why is he limping? What's wrong with him now?'_ He knew the answer, or he was somewhat sure he knew. Tony might just be very accident prone, his rich playboy self may have accidentally fallen from a plane or something. But Steve wasn't so stupid. _'He's hurt. I know he's hurt... What can I do? I have no proof; I have no right to even- No. He's hurting and I am_ obligated_ to help him.'_ Steve thought to himself as he watched Tony and felt the slaps on his shoulders and back, co-workers and friends more than happy for him.

"This man's heroics saved the lives of several people in an unfortunate and catastrophic equipment malfunction –not a feat ever expected of an employee, but rather a merit of great character. And now, after passing probationary stages and competing for 'Employee of the Month' against not only the assembly lines and other factory workers, but against researchers, scientists, and engineers as well –your well-loved, personal hero has done it again, for three months running. I'd like everyone to give a huge round of applause for Steve Rogers!" Public speaking had always been something Tony was good at, whether it be for the press or for his staff, and the lunch room was a roar with cheers.

The blonde blushed darkly, his mouth open in shock, "Against... against who?" He babbled mostly to himself, not that anyone else could hear him over the room full of applause. _'Mom if you could see me now...'_ He thought with a smile.

"Steve! Please come up here and accept these awards!"

Steve's face had nearly paled though he was too embarrassed for it to be noticeable, the colour in his cheeks standing strong enough to fight off the onset of fear. Going up in front of everyone? To accept awards? That wasn't like him, not at all. But then again it also wasn't like him to decline. And this was what he wanted; he wanted to see Tony again. _'Yeah but I wanted it to be more private...'_ He thought sadly, was this Tony's way of keeping him at arm's length? _'Not if I have anything to say about it.'_ Steve thought firmly as he found himself already walking toward the front of the lunch room.

The last time Tony had seen Steve the other man had been half disrobed, and sitting. The difference in height and size hadn't been as apparent, not like it was now with Steve walking towards him. Tony felt small –not a feeling he particularly liked. It didn't help that Steve was applauded, and looked intent; his walk was confident, and his shoulders were squared. Tony never forgot those shoulders, he'd admired them in high school and he'd admire them now. Tony consciously brushed his thoughts aside and kept up his showman smile, extending his hand to Steve as he reached the front of the lunch hall.

Steve shook Tony's hand with a bright smile, feeling strange standing in front of him; Tony looked so small up close. "You know if I keep this up you're going to owe me a free dinner, I think."

"You know, that doesn't sound like a bad idea," Tony smiled in reply.

The other guys in the room laughed, "Watch out, boss! He eats like a horse!"

Tony chuckled, "I guess we'll see about that."

Steve offered them a smile before looking back to the smaller man in front of him. Blue eyes remained strictly glued to Tony's, not wavering or hesitating, he covered the mic and angled it away, his voice lower, "Tony, I need to talk to you." He realized quickly it sounded like he was demanding it and immediately regretted the tone, his expression slipping away from intense and a lot closer to concerned, "Please? If you have time."

Tony was momentarily stunned, and Steve's directive tone of voice had sent a bolt of fear down his spine. He hated hearing those words, _we need to talk_. They were the root of nightmares. Tony tried to brush it off, it was nothing. Steve had corrected it quickly, had softened his tone to one of caring. Tony was torn –this could be it, this could help. Steve was here to help him, he'd come out of nowhere like a superhero. Tony didn't know if he could take it, wasn't sure he could take that leap. But something told him he couldn't let the opportunity pass.

Tony pulled the mic back, "In recognition of your achievements here with our company," it was good publicity to make employees feel like they were part of something, and saying 'our' instead of 'my' was a convenient way of doing so, "I'd like to personally congratulate you. Please accept these certificates of recognition, and this plaque made out in your honour," Tony added with a smile: "Just add it to your growing collection."

Steve felt discouraged for a moment, his blatant 'I need to talk to you' even after adding a please, failed. Tony wanted nothing to do with him, it was pretty clear. Whether that was from fear of that Obadiah man or it was because Steve had hurt him in high school, he wasn't sure. He accepted the rewards again; he decided then to not hide how he felt about it, giving Tony a desperate look. "Thank you," he said once he'd tucked the items under his arm.

Steve's co-workers cheered, the loudest of which were his friends –particularly Thor. Something about deep voices carried better.

"I hope you didn't pack anything you can't toss," Tony looked back to Steve, "because I'll be taking you out for lunch. And don't worry about missed time, it'll be covered. Let's get going."

Steve was taken aback by this; apparently he'd have to reassess the earlier assumption. Tony must be hesitant to accept his help because of fear, that much he knew but he still didn't have an answer as to what or who it was that Tony was most afraid of. He hoped it wasn't him. "Yes sir," he said with a smile, glancing over at his friends and giving them a slight wave.

Tony led Steve out of the lunch hall, "If you don't mind, I have to head back up to my office to sign off on a few forms before we get going. It'll only take a minute, and you might like to meet the man." Tony tried his hardest to hide the limp. He'd done well with it while in the lunch room, and the table support looked casual enough. Walking was different, but Tony supposed Steve already knew so there'd be no point in hiding it. Tony lifted his hand back to his side, nursing his battered rib.

"Oh, uh sure." Steve followed without slowing them down, the elevator was in sight and he figured what he wanted to say could wait for the enclosed space. His imagination was getting away with him as they walked, he imagined saying 'I'm sorry' and Tony telling him calmly it was in the past and that shouldn't dwell on it. Or possibly saying 'alright, but I'm not giving you a second chance', which led to the final imagery of Steve just picking Tony up and kissing him against the elevator doors instead of saying anything. That little flash of his mind lasted until the elevator doors closed and he had to shake his head at himself. _'What a fantastic thought to leave off on.'_

The elevator ride was a long one, and being alone in the same small space with one another only made it feel that much longer.

Steve took a breath and looked over at the smaller male, the one who seemed so much bigger in the past, like he knew everything, like he had everything and if he didn't then he could easily get it. This wasn't the same guy, something broke in Tony, Steve could see it and it was heart breaking. "Tony," he started softly, the stupid thoughts in his head from earlier being shoved aside, "Thank you. I mean it, you didn't have to give me the time of day but you are, so thank you."

"That," Tony looked at Steve, contemplating, "is the most awkward thing to try and respond to." He looked to the elevator doors again, trying to think of what to say. His knack for genuine talk was virtually non-existent. He could 'shoot the shit,' gossip, talk big and talk business –but about himself... No, he couldn't think that way. He wanted Steve's help; he was taking him for lunch, giving him the time of day. "You're welcome," Tony finally decided on the words, "And really, thank _you_."

Tony sighed –that was hard, harder than it ever should have been. But this was good. Steve was grateful, meaning Steve _wanted_ to talk to him. He didn't hate Tony for high school –and what a stupid thing that was, Tony could hardly care less about teenage angst at this stage in his life, but that didn't mean Steve wouldn't have. But he didn't. Tony smiled at Steve, brightly though briefly.

That smile was far too quick for it to be real, but Steve saw it. Tony wasn't broken, per se; he was just terrified and hiding. That made sense, that Steve could work with. He returned it, just as bright and friendly as he'd ever been, of course it was still tinged with concern and worry, he couldn't hide that.

Once the elevator finally stopped at one of the top office levels, Tony quickly stepped out and bee-lined for his office. He didn't like to keep Bruce waiting, and he could have just as easily signed the forms before going down to the assembly line. "Bruce, you remember Steve." Tony indicated the blonde in tow, "Now, we're going to take off to grab a bite, so where are those forms?"

Bruce glanced up and gave Steve a smile, "Group members together again," he chuckled, laying out the papers on Tony's desk as he pointed to where the signature needed to be, "What a horrible project that was."

Tony deftly scrawled his name across the pages, a motion evidently second nature.

"You were really good at taking charge," Steve smiled, glad to see an old classmate was with Tony, at least he had a friend.

"Pfft," Bruce scoffed, "You two were good at fighting, I snapped. Nothing talented about that."

"Well you did it in a productive way, so I stand by my statement."

"Stubborn as ever." Bruce crossed over to Steve and they shook hands, "Good to see you."

"Likewise." Steve gave Bruce's hand a firm squeeze before dropping his own to his side, glancing over at Tony's beaten form leaning over the desk so he wouldn't put weight on his legs as much. He wanted to ask Bruce what was going on, if his suspicions were correct, but he couldn't bring himself to do so. What if Bruce wasn't privy to that information? Then again, how could anyone close to Tony not notice it?

Bruce on the other hand was smiling, happier to see Tony walk in with Steve than either man knew. He wasn't aware of their previous relations, not by a long shot, however he knew what kind of man Steve Rogers would have grown into and it was definitely the kind of man that was needed in Tony's life. Bruce was unable to be the person to do the seriously crazy thing and save someone, Steve wasn't. Bruce's hopes were up but he didn't say anything about it. "Well you guys have a luncheon, right? Best get to it."

"Wow, in a hurry to get me out the door? You're like the mother I don't remember," Tony smirked at Bruce, evidently more comfortable with the other man around. Bruce was like a safety net –he knew what was going on, but he was neutral about it. He worried, and pushed the issue on occasion, but he wouldn't interfere, wouldn't throw uncertainty and chaos into his life.

"Yes sir," Bruce smirked, "I'm not going to play third wheel for you awkward teenagers so you don't feel the closeness of two people." He really wanted, _prayed_ even that Steve wasn't an idiot, that he'd see what was going on with Tony. Bruce felt a little bad, he knew that whatever Steve would do to help Tony, it'd have to be drastic and would end up being life changing for more than one person involved, and he was burdening that on another person. But Bruce knew himself too well; he wasn't that great under a lot of stress, Steve could carry more than three men's worth of a burden and still go. So it seemed fair to let someone more capable take care of it. "I've got work to get to anyway."

"Alright, alright –we're going," Tony smiled at Bruce, and turned to Steve, "All set?"

Steve nodded "It's been great seeing you Bruce," he said and then looked over at Tony again, wondering if he should offer to help him walk. Not in front of Bruce, that was probably one of the limitations.

As they left the room and headed out, Steve decided that asking wasn't part of it and gently moved to Tony's side and alleviated some of the pains of walking. "Looks like it hurts," he tried to explain before Tony asked. His face was a little pink from the contact; it'd been so long since he'd seen Tony, since he'd felt Tony against him. The last time they'd touched was the night that Steve couldn't remember, and that still burned a little. Honestly, how is it Tony's fault that he let go and drank that much? He should have known better.

Tony's entire body tensed at the unexpected touch, his head swivelled faster than either of them thought possible to face Steve, closer than he'd consciously expected him to be. Tony's face flushed, "N-no worries," _again with the goddamn stuttering_, "Thanks Steve." Tony had to face back down the hall, get some distance between him and Steve. At this distance, there was no doubt that he'd seen the faded bruises on his face, or maybe he saw down Tony's shirt collar to the marks on his neck. Tony willed his panicked mind not to flee and disconnect from the situation. He needed this, he needed to get help –but he didn't.

"You're really tense," Steve glanced at him, "I think you should relax Tony, being so stiff can't be helping. I'm not going to do anything, I promise, you don't need to be scared of me. Or, if that's not the problem... I could back off if you wanted." He was helpful but he wasn't disrespectful, if Tony didn't want him to touch then he wouldn't, that didn't mean he was okay with letting the other man limp around though. "But you're welcome." Steve hadn't made a point of checking Tony out, to look for the angry marks or anything like that, he knew they were there. He knew it, he didn't need to pry any further than that.

"No, don't back off," Tony tried not to sound desperate, but the notion that Steve would leave if Tony asked him to worried him. Tony knew he might get cold feet on this, might try and back out of making a change, tell Steve to leave it alone. If Steve listened and left... "I'm alright, just don't leave."

"Then I won't," Steve held a little tighter, his heart pounding in his chest. This was it; this was Tony telling him he needed him. "I promise, I won't leave." _'Until I fix this, at the very least.'_ He thought determinedly.


	13. Chapter 13

Steve could hear his heart pounding as they made it to the restaurant. He had to say something, he'd said 'I need to talk to you', there was no backing out now, he'd locked himself in. The servers were kind and the restaurant as fancy as anything else Tony had taken him to. Steve felt like the past had come back to him for a moment, that they were on their trip and having a good time. But that wasn't the case. He'd ruined that trip, he'd ruined their relationship and now he was sitting across from Tony who looked broken in comparison to the bright young man he remembered. Was that his fault too? No, he had no control over how Tony had ended up, that wasn't on him. But he couldn't help but think that if he hadn't flipped out like he did Tony would be so much different now.

The silence was awkward as always and Steve knew even more that he had to say something. "What happened this time?" he finally asked. "You're limping again."

"Hmm?" Tony looked up from his glass of wine, almost as though he were surprised that Steve would ask about the obvious. "This, uh..." Tony's eyes shifted to the table cloth. This was it; this was where he let someone in who'd do something. Surely Steve would do something, that's who Steve was. '_But I don't know that for sure_,' Tony reminded himself, deterring himself from speaking. '_What if he's changed? What if that's not who he is anymore?_' Tony knew they wouldn't be here, in a restaurant together, if Steve hadn't given a damn about him. Even if Steve wanted nothing to do with Tony romantically, he still wanted to help when he saw someone in need. '_I don't know that either_,' Tony reminded himself hopefully, '_Maybe he does want something to do with me_.'

Tony's silence was mind numbingly long, Steve could feel his chest aching as he waited, fingers tapping impatiently under the table so as not to be noticed. He didn't know what Tony was thinking, he didn't know but he had an idea, it looked as though the billionaire was trying to think up an excuse, trying to figure something out to tell him. Like that bullshit tennis line. But the longer it took to say anything the more Steve was certain it'd be a lie, if he said anything remotely useless. _'No, that doesn't mean anything, Steve. Don't do that, you won't believe a single thing he says unless it's something you wanted to hear. Just listen to him, that's what you're doing here, just listen. If he needs your help, you'll know.'_ "Tony, please." He urged a little, hoping the other man would finally speak.

"Obadiah," his answer was short and to the point. Tony knew Steve could fill in the blanks, even if it was vague. If he was going to ask Steve for help, he'd have to force himself through it. No more thinking, no more worrying, just do it. Tony didn't know where the motivation had come from, why he felt the sudden urgency to run away, to just escape and be safe. He entertained the idea that it might be Steve. He remembered being inspired by Steve, even while completely infuriated with the teen at the time. Steve made him want to do something better, to _be_ something better. Tony thought that maybe, just maybe, they could make something work, something other than a 3-day relationship overseas.

Steve was going to burst out with an 'I knew it!' but didn't. He gave a knowing nod and a pleasant smile as if to say 'it's alright, you can keep going' and he briefly entertained the idea of actually saying it though he felt it might be a bit antagonizing. "I had a feeling it was him." He said instead, a quiet solemnity that couldn't be taken the wrong way.

"He's been..." Tony sighed and opted to give Steve a bit of back story, "Since we got back from Paris. In the airport, he called and let told me that my father had died." Tony laughed dryly, "I guess that puts him three years and three days behind your dad, huh?" Tony knew that it wasn't funny, that Steve loved his dad and he shouldn't joke –but he was nervous, and couldn't help it. "Sorry." The apology was like rapid fire, like a child trying to avoid a strapping.

Blue eyes widened then, staring like he'd just been shot in the heart but hadn't realized the severity of it yet. "Oh my god... Tony... I'm so sorry. Is that why you didn't come back to school?" He felt frantic, like even that might have been his fault. Not that it was but he felt like maybe if he hadn't ended their trip the way he had that never would have happened. "You should have told me! Nothing you did to wrong me would have stopped me from helping you; you knew that, you _know_ that." His tone was strong but not as though he were towering over his dinner partner, just scolding. _You should have turned around, should have said goodbye or even 'thanks for the trip'. It would have been in anger, it would have been spiteful, but you would have _seen_ it. You would have seen it on his face because you know that look. There are no two ways about this, Steve; you owe him an apology at the very least. Tony's current situation is your fault.'_

Tony went quiet for a few minutes. He could hear his heart beat pounding, and he knew he was starting to break a sweat. He was scared, irrationally worried that any moment Stane himself might show up and the world would end. "You were just so mad at me that I couldn't ask you... Well, I don't even know what I would've asked you. I just needed... Steve, I'm so sorry –about everything."

Steve silently rose from the table and walked around to Tony's side, he knelt next to him to seem less frightening, less intimidating. At first he only took Tony's hand and squeezed it lightly, looking up into the big brown eyes that he had missed so much, "I know you are, you already apologized." He said softly, "And once you've apologized, and I know you meant it, there's nothing you could have done. I should have forgiven you right there, when I woke up in the morning I should have forgiven you. But I didn't," he teared up at that, his voice shaky, "I overreacted and I ruined something that we could have had, something I think... would have lasted. I'm older now and I can see outright that what I was upset about was the _stupidest_ thing, and for that, for all of this, I'm sorry. To the bottom of my heart I regret the way I acted."

"You- you are?" Tony's eyes lit up at the prospect. It wasn't all in his head, Steve was right here, with him. He was actually just as sorry as Tony was, maybe even more. "Steve, I don't know what to say," Tony's eyes were welling up with tears, tears that he was desperately trying to fight off. He didn't need to look weak, didn't need to make himself vulnerable. "Steve-" Tony spoke past the lump in his throat, tried not to choke on the words, "you didn't ruin anything. It was all my fault." Tony couldn't help the tremors that shook through him. He felt cold, and weak.

"And I let you think that because I didn't say anything to you, because I was being... well... a bit of a bitch." He smiled and reached up; rubbing a thumb over Tony's cheek, knowing that tears couldn't be far off for either of them. He wanted to say 'don't cry' but figured Tony had been holding that back for far too long already. Instead Steve leaned up and pulled Tony into a gentle hug, strong arms wrapped firmly around him, one hand on the back of his head for support, the other around his mid-back. "I wanted to see you," He whispered after a moment, "But you didn't come back, because of me I know... I've never shot myself in the foot the way I did with you." He chuckled softly, rubbing very gentle circles on Tony's back, he didn't know where the injuries were or anything like that, he didn't want to hurt him.

Tony smothered a sob in Steve's shoulder, leaning into the embrace despite the sting it brought to his ribs. He brought his arms up to hold on to Steve, hold on like a lifeline. He didn't know what to say, or if he should say anything at all. "It wasn't," Tony choked out another sob; his attempts at keeping himself composed crumbling away, "it wasn't because of you."

Steve continued the comforting and soothing motions on Tony's back, fingers brushing through the soft brown hair, noting a few scars underneath, "It may as well have been." He said softly, just letting Tony shake and fall apart, "It's okay to cry, Tony. I'm here now, I've got you." He whispered, knowing that Tony still might not let go because of the location, because there were other people there. But at the same time he thought it might not matter so much.

It was a little bit before Steve finally let go of Tony, figuring that he was okay enough that they could continue lunch as planned, "Can I..." Steve fidgeted as he went back around to his side, feeling a little raw and open, "Can I see you more often than the awards?" He asked sheepishly, looking like he were asking someone for a very valuable possession or something.

'_Leap of faith, point of no return. Come on Tony, you can do it_,' Tony took a deep, steadying breath. "Would it be too forward of me to ask if we could," Tony swallowed nervously and diverted his gaze back to the table cloth to collect his thoughts. "I know it's a bit much but," Tony looked back up at Steve, eye contact was important, "Could we try to pick up where we left off?"

Steve could see clearly that even thinking of asking that took a lot of strength on Tony's part, and it made him feel a little proud to see Tony had managed to. _'He's not too far gone; he'll be okay with enough time.'_ "Tony, we don't have to try anything, we _will_ pick up where we left off, except now I won't be such a pain in the neck." He reached across the table and took Tony's hand in his again, "I'm all yours."

* * *

The clock ticked by in what seemed like reverse without Steve on the assembly line. Bucky looked back to the clock every five minutes, thinking it must've been at least an hour by now, and it never was. "I guess if Tony Stark takes you out for lunch you're not just going to drop by a McD's."

"Of course not," Thor scoffed in reply. "There is a much greater chance of them travelling to a different city than going to a McDonald's. And besides, Steve eats far too healthy for fast food. I imagine that Steve will not be returning to work at all today. 'Missed time', remember?"

"Right, right," Bucky sighed and looked back to his work. "I guess I'm just worried about Steve. You didn't know him, but Tony Stark can be a real pain in the ass. He never got along with Steve in high school."

Thor laughed, "So what then? Are you concerned that he'd murder his best employee?"

"Wha- no! No, nothing like that," Bucky laughed too. "I guess it's nothing."

When the home bell rang and there was no sign of Steve, Thor and Bucky decided that they'd just head home, and Bucky would give their friend a call once he got there. There was no use worrying about Steve, of all people. He could take care of himself, and if he was ever in danger it was likely he'd put himself there on purpose.

On the walk home Thor turned to Bucky, "I have to ask, since you've known him longer than me: when's the last time Steve went on a date or had a girlfriend?"

Bucky almost thought the question to be ridiculous, almost as though Thor were insinuating that Steve couldn't land a date. But it dawned on him with a bit of concern, "I've actually never known Steve to have a partner of any kind." The realization worried Bucky more than a little. Steve told him everything; they were best friends, so if there was something that had happened that prevented Steve from being with people, he'd surely tell his best friend –wouldn't he?

"Just Tony," Thor supplied. Steve had admitted to a thing, a premarital thing, with Tony only a few short months ago. "So at work, when you said you were worried about him, were you worried because he might still have a thing for his former classmate?"

"If you're implying that I'm jealous, you can stop that thought right there," Bucky warned Thor –still friendly, but serious.

Thor raised both hands in mock surrender, "Alright, alright, I just wanted to know." He hefted his bag to readjust it over his shoulder, "But seriously, do you think that they'll patch things up?"

"Jesus, Thor! Since when are you such a gossip?" Bucky looked his friend's way, waiting for an answer.

"Since when are you so touchy?" Thor shot back, one eyebrow raised, "You like Steve." It was a statement, not a question –if anything it was more of an accusation.

"Didn't I tell you to shut the hell up about that?" Bucky griped, "I told you that I don't have a thing for Steve. I just think that Tony's an awful guy –definitely not the right guy for Steve."

"If you're sure that's all it is," Thor gave up the conversation with a shrug. "This is my street; I'll see you tomorrow at work. Tell Steve to give me a call later, I want to know how things went."

"Sure thing," Bucky gave his friend a parting wave and went his separate way.

Thor wasted no time after getting in the door, "Loki!" He called out to his brother, eager to share the news. He kicked off his work shoes and dropped his bag in the entrance. "Brother!"

Loki rolled his eyes and started getting up out of the tub where he thought he still had time for a relaxing bath, clearly not. He knew his brother well enough, Thor would keep hollering until Loki was in the room, not just saying 'yes I'm here'. A bathrobe was enough as he walked out, still dripping because Thor demanded an audience and he wanted it two minutes before he walked in the door. "Yes, brother?" He crossed his arms and leaned against the doorframe leading to the entrance so Thor could see him.

Thor was completely unfazed by Loki's drenched and robed presence, a common occurrence by now. "You're a far better gossip than Bucky," Thor informed Loki, "Steve won the employee of the month award for the quarter –three months straight. And then he went out for lunch with Tony Stark."

"No way!" Loki's eyes lit up and his posture straightened, "Steve's out with his old fling? Guaranteed he's going to do something, Steve can't _not_ do anything. They're going to get back together, I'm almost certain of it." Loki was definitely more of a gossip than Bucky, and for him it was hilarious to hear Thor say that. It meant Thor was more of a gossip than Bucky too, apparently his behaviour rubbed off on his brother. "Is Steve going to call once he's home? I need to know."

"I don't know if he'll call me, but I know that Bucky was supposed to call him. But Bucky may have forgotten. Do you think that I should call him?" Thor was caught up in the prospect of Steve leaving the forever alone club. It had astonished him to learn that Steve was perpetually single, all because of one stupid fling in high school. "At the very least, he should be able to make mends and move on."

"Bah, even when you want to gossip you suck." Loki shrugged and started heading back toward the bathroom, "But we will find out the good details one way or another, and when we do we have to decide what to do with it. Celebrate or pester the hell out of him."


	14. Chapter 14

Steve finally made it home after spending the last half of the day catching up with Tony, telling him how life had been, about his friends Bucky, Thor, and Loki, avoiding the topic of his mom because Tony wouldn't want to hear that. He'd been good at keeping the conversation neutral and away from painful subjects, Tony was clearly pushed to the limit of how much he could handle for the day and he didn't want to break anything. They'd ended on a good note, a hug, a light kiss on the cheek because Steve really didn't want to push it and he didn't think Tony did either. Numbers had been exchanged and the whole way home Steve played with the idea of calling right away, sending a message, something.

Parting words had been something along the lines of 'I'll see you later' and a promise to send a message once he was home and safe, which he now promptly did, slipping his feet out of his shoes absentmindedly as he sent the text. He smiled to himself and called into the house, "I'm home, Bucky."

"And where the heck have you been?" Bucky hollered back, darting to the entrance from the kitchen. In retrospect he was being a mother hen, but at that moment in time, he didn't really care. "I tried calling you after work, but your phone was off. You spent the whole afternoon with Tony Stark, didn't you? That obnoxious little twat. What happened? Did he try anything? Did you even bring it up? Did he apologize? What!? C'mon man, answers!"

"Whoa, whoa!" Steve lifted his hands and placed them gently on his friend's shoulders, "Bucky calm down, give me a chance to answer them." He laughed softly and started toward the living room, stretching casually as he went, "My phone was off, yes. I didn't want any interruptions while I was talking to him, sorry, should have sent a message or something." He looked apologetically over his shoulder. "I spent the whole afternoon with Tony, you're right, but he's... different. He's not obnoxious anymore." The fact that he could say that hurt him a little, "I guess long story short, he apologized, I apologized, he needs me and..." Steve squeezed his eyes shut; he knew he'd get it for the next line, "We're dating again."

"What?!" Bucky stared at Steve in disbelief, almost as though he was waiting for his friend to crack and tell him it was just a joke, that there was no way in hell that he'd get back together with Stark. When that didn't happen, Bucky realized that he'd need to be more supportive of his friend, despite every bone in his body telling him that it was a bad fucking idea.

"Now I know you don't approve of the whole thing and I can't tell you everything right now but Tony needs me, he's in trouble and I can't _not_ do anything for him... But that isn't why we're dating again, that's why I tried so hard to talk to him again. I... I don't think I ever got over him, you know?" Blue eyes glanced up sheepishly, "I really liked him and I screwed it all up, he screwed it up and I shut the door and supposedly burned the bridges, I don't know. It's just, every time I saw him, and don't laugh at me for this, but my heart skipped, I felt anxious, I couldn't stop watching him. I really like him, Bucky."

"No, Steve-" Bucky tried to find the words to express what he was feeling, but he came up short. "Steve, he was a grade-A dick, you remember that, right? Just because karma came round and bit him in the ass, doesn't mean that you are in the least bit responsible." Bucky sighed, "But, I know what this means to you. There's a lot of... baggage? I don't know if that's the best word, but whatever. I never told you, but you still mutter his name in your sleep." Bucky smirked despite himself, "I guess what I mean to say is, good luck with this."

Steve was a little embarrassed to hear that bit about him sleeping but he smiled regardless, "Thank you, Bucky." He went to his friend's side and wrapped him in a hug, resting his head against Bucky's appreciatively. "That means a lot."

"Hey hey, no chick flick moments," Bucky briefened the hug, but smiled at Steve, "You're welcome though."

Their little best friend moment lasted a few more seconds before Steve was promptly informed that Thor had been concerned about him so before dinner Steve made sure to give his other friends a call. Obviously he was bombarded with questions, personal ones because Loki wouldn't have it any other way, but all in all Steve managed to smooth over the nagging questions they had with some dignity left over. He couldn't very well lie to them about any of it, they were his best friends and he should be able to tell them who he's dating without feeling like a judged slab of meat.

* * *

Tony couldn't sit still, and found himself pacing around his office more than he sat at his desk. He couldn't focus –not on the upcoming executive meeting, the research proposals, or even on his knick-knack shop work. He was _excited_ –he couldn't remember the last time he'd been so completely thrilled. He was afraid –everything was going to get really messy, really soon. But somehow, he couldn't really bring himself to worry enough about the fear.

Tony paced past his desk for the umpteenth time that morning and had a thought; he hit the desk pager for Bruce's research station. "Get up here, now." Tony didn't realize that for Bruce, who'd known him more intimately in the past several years than he ever had in high school, his excitement could easily be mistaken for terror. Tony needed to share the news with _someone_. He was dating Steve Rogers, again.

Bruce shared a glance with his co-workers before putting his work aside and heading to the elevator. His mind whirled with what he might find up there and reasons why Tony would ask for _him_ of all people. He wasn't of any help; he'd proven that time and time again. Maybe he was seriously wounded? Then he would have called Pepper for an ambulance or something. And if he was terrified of something then why didn't he call for Steve? Maybe it hadn't gone well. Bruce sighed as the elevator opened and he stepped out into Tony's office, glancing around quickly for the CEO, his eyes more on the floor than anything else, not expecting he man to be standing.

Tony's eyes shot to the door when he heard the familiar sound of the elevator's arrival, "Bruce, I'm up here." Tony smirked at the scientist's downward glance. "Whatever, you wouldn't believe it, lunch went a thousand times better than expected: Steve agreed to go out with me again!" Tony tried to calm himself, tried to _not_ sound like a school girl, but this was the most ground breaking personal event he'd had since going out with Steve the first time.

"Whoa, okay, what? You're dating _again_? When did you date the first time? Was this some hidden thing in high school I didn't know about?" Bruce did well to hide his relief to see Tony wasn't dying on the floor, best not share that thought.

"What? Oh, right," Tony realized that no one really knew about that but him and Steve, and it only made sense that Steve wouldn't have mentioned a thing back in high school. "When we went to Paris, for that history art project, he was depressed about something at home, and I tried cheering him up, in my own way. It turns out that he gets really emotionally attached to people, and we got along really well when I wasn't being my typical self." Tony smiled broadly, "This requires celebration –let's get the hell out of here before Obadiah shows up."

Bruce grinned, "You guys had a thing? I freaking _knew_ it!" He clapped with a laugh, following Tony out the door, "No one could hate each other that much without someone doing something really horrible and not have there being some latent desires. I freaking knew it."

"That," Tony paused to chuckle, "that must be the vaguest 'evidence' to support a suspicion I have ever heard, much less from a researcher of your calibre." Tony couldn't help but poke fun at Dr. Banner for his convoluted English. "Food, we can talk over that."

* * *

_Much later..._

Obadiah cornered Tony in his office, his massive frame obscuring the exit behind him, and he locked the door. "I know that you've been seeing one of your employees." He was angry –the scary kind of angry that Tony hated most. It was the sort of anger that churned just beneath the surface like a monstrous beast, an undercurrent of near murderous rage.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Tony replied, and promptly received a harsh shove into the wall behind him. Tony flinched and tried to pull away, if only he could shrink into the wall and be gone.

"Don't lie to me," Obadiah warned, unamused with Tony's failed aversion. "I want him gone; you're not to be seeing _anyone_. You're mine." He reached a large hand over and gripped Tony by the hair, dragging him back to face him.

More than anything Tony wished Steve was here, despite the strict warning to the contrary. "I'll talk to him about it," Tony promised, "Please, I'll take care of it."

"See that you do." Obadiah let him go and turned away, only to serve as a false sense of security before he rounded on Tony, landing a brutal blow to his abdomen, dropping the much smaller man in seconds. Satisfied, Stane left the office.

Tony gasped in pain, doubled over on the floor. Breathing became difficult as his chest constricted in agony. He felt like he was going to be sick, but managed to fish his phone out of his pocket and dial Steve's number.

"Hello?" Steve answered immediately. He would have personalized the greeting had he known who it was, however he wasn't the type to waste time on silly things like call display, so he had no idea.

Tony was quiet for a moment after hearing Steve's voice, relieved at the sound alone. He hissed in pain as he tried to speak, a strangled cry taking the place of words when he attempted again to vocalize a greeting.

Blue eyes shot open wide and Steve stood very suddenly from where he was sitting, "Tony?" He was already running from his break room to the elevator, he didn't care if he wasn't allowed on Tony's floor, he was going and that was that. "Tony, what happened?" Steve felt more anxious than ever as he waited for the elevator, he knew he wouldn't be much help unless he was by Tony's side. He squeezed his eyes shut listening to the crying and gasping on the other end, "Talk to me, how bad is it?"

Tony took a steadying breath, content in knowing that Steve would be up in seconds, maybe a minute. "It's," Tony turned away from the receiver and coughed, a direct result from a strained diaphragm, "it's not so bad." And truthfully, he'd had worse –he'd just never had anyone to call. Knowing that he wasn't alone, that Steve was coming, did more to calm the pain than any painkiller ever did.

Steve pressed his forehead against the glass of the elevator doors as he waited for it to arrive, his eyes pressed shut as he listened to the awful sound of Tony's voice. He had two options, one was going after Stane immediately, and the other was going to Tony. He almost laughed at himself for thinking it was even a question. The elevator finally dinged and Steve booked it inside, holding the door close button and then holding the floor button for Tony's level, punching in a password he'd read once on his boss' desk (being obsessed about someone will cause you to read everything pertaining to them, evidently). "I'm coming, okay? Don't move, I'll be right there."

"Ok," Tony clutched his phone and closed his eyes.

When the doors opened Steve poked his head out and glanced around to make sure no one could see him before he hurried into the office, "Tony?" He called as he went before spotted the curled up mess that was his boyfriend. "Tony!" He hurried over and knelt next to him, gently looking him over for serious injuries. "It's okay, I'm here now, I've got you." He grit his teeth, he felt awful for letting this happen again, though he also knew he couldn't be everywhere at once.

"It's alright," Tony answered quietly, relaxing slightly in Steve's grip. "It happens all the time, just... Don't go anywhere."

Steve held it together though part of him really wanted to cry, for Tony, because he had failed him again, because he hadn't saved him yet. It was just so hard to walk that line, he wanted to rush in and punch that bastard in the face but what good does that do? He needed to get the man arrested somehow but that's playing a game of politics with a man who was raised in it. Steve knew he had no leverage and had nothing to help him against Obadiah Stane, just like Tony didn't, except in Steve's case he wasn't being beaten to death for it. "I'll figure something out," He whispered, resting Tony against his chest, "But until then I'll stay right here, I promise."

Tony scooted impossibly closer, partly in fear of an unexpected return by Obadiah, and partly for the comfort it offered. "Thank you Steve."

* * *

**Zafona's Notes**:

**Again, thank you everyone for supporting this story :D We really appreciate it. If there are any questions go ahead and ask them, Matsu or I will get back to you asap (there's two of us, you might even get two answers right away XD) Anyway I hope this chapter was good enough for you guys, hope to hear from you ;)**


	15. Chapter 15

**Zafona's Notes:**

**Only one person read chapter 14? Lol awe oh well. Thank you Keefer :3**

* * *

'Taking it slow' was be a good way to put it, possibly even an understatement. Steve and Tony weren't the anxious and sexually tormented teenagers that they were in high school, and Tony was clearly hesitant every time Steve made the slightest move. His recoil was a learned thing, habit, and every time he did it he would apologize profusely for flinching. It wasn't hard to see that Tony had been hurt this way and the very thought infuriated Steve, but he knew there was nothing he could do about what had happened, only about what was going to happen.

Steve hadn't really had a chance to see much of Obadiah Stane, and when he did they were passing in the office areas where so many people were located. Steve couldn't really do much of anything other than give a knowing look, and Obadiah didn't say anything, but must have known that Steve had no business in Stark Industries' offices. Steve didn't need to agitate Tony's situation by confronting Stane, he wasn't always with the other man and the thought that Obadiah would get more violent because of something Steve did was horrifying on its own.

It was sickening and Steve was just about ready to start pulling punches every time he saw the man, but Tony wasn't as injured lately, it was a good thing and he should be glad for it. _'God, give me an opening, something. I need a...'_ Steve realized then, sitting in a reserved seat at the Expo with his friends, waiting for it to start; there wasn't going to be an obvious opening. Whatever he had to do was going to be ugly. He just needed to be strong enough. These thoughts swarmed his head as the opening ceremony started, blue eyes fixed on Tony as he walked onto the stage.

Tony stood backstage, waiting for the opening theatrics to build up to his cue. He'd felt good, almost healthy. His breathing had improved as a result of lessened damage to his chest and ribs, and without expending the extra energy healing wounds, his body seemed much more energized. Tony knew he had Steve to thank –it was convenience of circumstance that Obadiah had been swamped with work, had wanted no reason for any reporter to suspect a thing, but without Steve Tony doubted he'd feel as good as he did. Mind over matter went a long way in terms of personal health, and Tony had felt almost euphoric.

That was, until the night before. Obadiah had felt the need to pay Tony a visit, in his home. Tony had been confident that Obadiah wouldn't pull anything, not on the eve of the biggest Stark Expo in the company's history. And maybe he had felt a little _over_confident, and acted a bit brashly. Obadiah had known the whole time. He'd known about Steve, had seen the strong young male in the executive offices when he visited the CEO. "_You've had your fun_," he'd told Tony, "_I warned you once. After the lights go out on that stage tomorrow, so will yours_."

Tony shuddered; he couldn't get Steve to leave. He couldn't back out after starting, and now there was hell to pay. Tony watched the curtains pull open and thought that was well enough, he needed something to distract him from all of these thoughts, threats, and fears swimming around in his head. He strolled on stage with confidence, his head up high and a smile on his face. His arms were extended, peace signs brandished by either hand. This fake world of publicity and fame was his, and he was good at it.

Loki leaned over to Thor part way through it and pointed toward Tony, "That's Steve's boyfriend right?" Steve hadn't ever brought Tony home with him, his friends wouldn't know why, wouldn't know that Obadiah was a constant threat and if Tony visited anywhere it'd be catastrophic for him. "Tony Stark, never thought our little soldier boy would end up with a big shot like that. Good things come to those who wait, I suppose."

"I think it is," Thor agreed and took a quick appraisal of the brunette on stage, full of talk and gusto. "Steve's never been one for flashy and extravagant, of that you are correct. But there is also not a soul in the world who could match him in bravery, modesty, and good-heartedness. Steve couldn't end up with someone who would fall short of him on virtues that they held as core characteristics. It makes sense that Steve would need someone different from him. Opposites attract, and all that."

"Would you two shush up?" Bucky snipped at them, "I'm trying to watch."

Loki made a face at Bucky but obliged regardless.

The Expo went on as normal, sort of. Steve noted that once Tony's final section was finished and he bowed to the crowd, somehow still seemed to be charismatic despite his turmoil. But that vanished, slightly, only someone like Steve would see it, when Obadiah motioned for the genius to follow him backstage.

Steve watched Tony disappear, listening like a beaten dog, and his blood started to boil, veins popping up along his arms and neck.

"Steve?" Loki glanced at the enraged blonde, "You look like you're going to kill someone."

"I might." Steve growled before hopping out of his chair and running to the stairs that led to the stage, the security situated there gave him a smile and a wave, Steve was a sort of legend already in his few months of employment. Steve briefly smiled back and snuck backstage, or more so was allowed back there, but he saw it as sneaking anyway.

"What is he doing?" Loki pointed and looked over at Thor and Bucky as if they'd know more than he did.

"If I didn't know any better," Bucky answered with no shortage of concern, "I'd say he was going to kill somebody."

* * *

"You've just given the biggest speech of your young life! How do you feel?" Obadiah was brimming with false sincerity and kindness, clapping Tony on the shoulder and leading him out of sight.

Tony recognized the grip on his shoulder as Obadiah guided him away, saw the knowing look of the stage workers as they averted their eyes and quickly vanished from Stane's path. It had never occurred to Tony quite as strongly as it did then how many people must have been vaguely away of Obadiah's tyranny. And they just let it happen. Tony said nothing in reply to Obadiah's attempts at a charade –there was no point, it didn't matter what he said, he'd still be visiting a hospital in less than 24 hours.

"Silent treatment, huh boy?" Obadiah wrenched Tony forward by the shoulder, sending him toppling to the ground. Tony swore he felt something snap, and there was a horrible burning sensation setting in to his shoulder as his fingers went numb. "Get up!" Obadiah snarled, and when Tony's compliance wasn't forth coming, he wound up and gave the genius a solid boot to the gut.

Tony flipped over in the air twice before landing hard on the ground once more. And then Stane was on him, and it was all Tony could do to get his hands up to his face to try and ward off the first flurry of blows, and hope that Stane wouldn't find _it_.

"Get off him, asshole!" Steve shouted from down the hall, bolting it over and catching Obadiah by surprise. Steve tackled Obadiah, throwing all of his weight into the motion and slamming him against the nearest surface which happened to be a wall. "You're going to seriously regret this," he snarled, taking advantage of older man's shock and pushed him as hard as he could into the solid stone wall behind him.

Obadiah didn't stay stunned for long, "You overestimate yourself, boy." Steve was young, and in his prime –Obadiah had to admit that. But all of the spryness of youth in that 6'1" frame didn't stand a chance against the bulk of his 6'8" and nearly three hundred pounds –physics just wouldn't allow it. Stane pushed off the wall, knocking Steve back a step, and that was just enough space to land a solid punch to the younger man's jaw and send him to the floor.

Steve couldn't say what shocked him more; the strength that this older man packed into a punch or that only thirty seconds into his rescue attempt he was on his ass. He also couldn't say he spent much time dwelling on the thought, because Stane was coming at him for another round. Steve scrambled to his feet. He wouldn't run –he never ran. Not from any challenge and not from any fight. This wasn't about his pride or even proving a point: this was for Tony, and if there was a stronger motivator out there, Steve didn't know it.

"You didn't believe you'd get away with this forever, did you?" Steve snarled at the man, buying time to catch his breath and antagonizing the other. '_If I can cloud his mind, make him angry enough, he might slip up_.'

"Believe it?" Obadiah scoffed, "I _know_ it! Have you even asked your damsel in distress if he _wants_ you to interfere?" Obadiah didn't stop for conversation, and continued his advance on Steve, arms raised to the sides of his head like a boxer. He faked a left jab, following up with a devastating right upper cut to Steve's jaw. Faking, he knew, would only work on Steve once –'_fool me once, shame on me_,' but it was worth it for the sickening crack that echoed from the strike.

Steve stumbled back again, this time keeping himself upright. His head was spinning and aching at the same time, and his blurred vision did nothing to help. He lifted his left hand to his jaw and couldn't help but wonder if it was broken. Steve clicked it shut and set it, not broken, good enough. He charged at Obadiah, dodging the next incoming fist possibly by luck because it certainly wasn't skill, and laid into him with a series of many fast jabs and punches.

While the almost one-sided fight went on, Tony had meanwhile collected himself from the floor, and realized with a vehement repulsion that he'd done nothing to help Steve, and that his heroic boyfriend was receiving the shit-kicking of a lifetime. Tony was grateful that Stane hadn't found his piece, strapped to his side beneath his suit jacket. Obadiah's late-night visit had frightened Tony into bringing it with, but when Obadiah had called him backstage, he'd lost all nerve to use it. He'd even known that he would pay dearly for even thinking to bring it –Obadiah would have been enraged, to have said the least.

Tony shakily pulled the 9mm from its holster. He was holding an armed weapon, and as an arms manufacturer, it shouldn't have felt so foreign, but it did. He wasn't sure he could do this, he hadn't been sure when he'd armed himself that morning either, and that alone could've gotten him killed, and now his hesitation might just get Steve killed.

Obadiah's grip on Steve's shoulders was vice-like, disabling full use of the younger man's arms. Stane used his leverage to drop Steve into a brutal knee to the ribs, once, twice, and a third time before throwing him to the ground. "You're out of your depth, kid," he chided as he revealed a pistol under his suit jacket, levelling the muzzle at Steve's head and effectively halting all attempts at getting back up to his feet.

Blue eyes were fixed on the barrel for the few passing seconds that it took to realize what it was, his heart nearly stopping. He hadn't considered how tough an opponent Stane would be physically and hadn't considered the possibility of a weapon. It was clear to him in that horrible moment that he was about to die. One thought flashed in his mind, something he'd been thinking in the last few months ever since he saw Tony again. _'If I could give you everything, I would.'_ Steve squeezed his eyes shut, face scrunched up because in all honesty he was terrified. He was just a man and he wasn't prepared for this, but it was coming anyway, if Stane's awful grin was anything to go by.

The gunshot rang out loud, echoing down the corridor and undoubtedly alerting several members of the security force, among others.

'_I'm dead.'_ Steve thought dismally for a moment before he realized he felt nothing. _'Oh god!'_ "TONY!" Steve's gaze snapped back, expecting to see his boyfriend with a bloody hole in him, but there wasn't any, just Tony standing shakily with a gun firmly in his grip. "You're not... What?" He looked up at the towering man who'd been about to kill him only moments ago.

Obadiah dropped to his knees in front of Steve, his eyes wide and unseeing as a stream of blood, starting as a trickle and growing to a gushing splatter, fell down his face. The giant of a man dropped to the floor, dead.

Steve scuttled backward on the floor to avoid the corpse, his breath starting to come in again, gasping and coughing after receiving so many awful blows to the chest and generally everywhere else. "Oh god... holy shit..." He wheezed, his face a grimace in pain.

Tony stood paralyzed, his firearms still smoking in his hand. He dropped the 9mm to the ground, "I killed him." He looked from Stane's corpse, to the gun, and finally at Steve. "I just... I just killed him. Oh god."

The sound of Tony's desperate horror had Steve's eyes opened again, the blonde ignoring his pain to look up at the terror consuming those brown eyes, and it hurt more to see it than anything Stane had done. Steve closed his eyes for a brief moment as he sat up, _'Mom, dad, give me strength.'_ He thought as he pulled himself to his feet and stumbled to Tony's side. "Tony, Tony look at me." His voice was calm as he tilted his boyfriend's face away from dead body, because it'd inevitably returned there. "It's okay," he whispered, glancing down at the gun for a moment then back up to keep eye contact.

Tony looked at Steve, still shaking. "It's... –it's not okay!" Tony's eyes welled with tears, "He may be gone, but..." Tony looked at his hands then, his shell-shocked mind trying to comprehend the applicable ramifications of murder.

Steve could see very clearly that Tony was not going to be okay with this, at least not for the first little while. He really wished he could have done more than getting the shit kicked out of him by Obadiah, and then he realized he could. His eyes shifted back down to the firearm and he picked it up, running his hand along it briefly, his mind settling on the idea of what he was about to do. Tony would lose everything for killing a man in his company; he didn't need all of that crap on top of everything that happened already.

Steve could hear the doors swinging open down the hall, could hear the sound of the security guards' hurried footsteps. He smiled at Tony and kissed him slowly before leaning up to his ear, "You saved my life when I couldn't save yours, I'm sorry you had to do that for me. I should have been the one to do it, to keep you clean, but I will share the blood on your hands, alright?" He leaned back to see if Tony understood him.

Tony looked between Steve's eyes as his brow furrowed in thought. He looked down to Steve's hands, and realized that he was holding the firearm Tony had dropped only moments ago. "Wait," Tony started to protest as the pieces fell into place.

"HEY!" The guards were on sight, guns drawn and aimed at Steve, Tony's 9mm still in his hand. "Step away from Mr. Stark _immediately_." They demanded.

"Steve?" Tony looked at Steve, wishing he had more time for answers, but things were moving too quickly.

Steve smiled at boyfriend, expression calm and determined, he knew what he was doing. "I love you, Tony." He whispered before stepping away, lifting his hands up as if in surrender.

Tony was too stunned to respond. The security guards levelled their guns at Steve's head.

"Put the gun down!"

Steve obediently lowered it, very slowly, and shoving it away from his possible reach. "Don't shoot, please." He said casually.

"Down on the ground! _Get down on the ground!_" It only made sense that they were seriously pissed at him, they believed him a murderer. Steve lied down for them and they rushed forward with handcuffs, roughly binding his arms behind his back. Steve did his best not to groan from the pain as he was manhandled toward the exit, glancing back once to see Tony again and receiving another blow to the face for it. "Bastard, don't you dare look at him."

One of the guards approached Tony, "Sir, are you alright?" He quickly saw the damage from the beating Obadiah had laid on him minutes before, "Stark's injured! Get a medic!"

"You son of a bitch," Steve received a punishing jab between the shoulder blades, "You're going to pay for this."

Steve let out a whimpered grunt in pain, fighting to keep it from being the pathetic whine it would have been though it still wasn't all that impressive.

"Wait!" Tony managed to shout –everything was going by too damn fast. It wasn't even five minutes ago that he was on stage for the Expo, and now he was beat to hell, Steve was beat to hell, Obadiah was dead, and Steve was as good as arrested.

"Don't worry, sir. We've got the situation under control." And that was the last Tony saw of Steve before his boyfriend was dragged out and he himself was ushered to medical care.

* * *

"What the hell was that!?" Bucky looked alarmingly between Thor and Loki, "Steve went back there. Were those gunshots?"

"Those were definitely gunshots," Loki muttered as they watched the only exit and could never miss the beaten and damaged man dragged out as the culprit. "And that's Steve..."

"What happened to him?" Bucky didn't wait for an answer to his hypothetical inquiry and jumped from his seat, Thor right on his heels, "Let him go! He didn't do anything!" Bucky yelled at the guards as he and Thor began shoving their way through the crowd to get to Steve.

As the other two tried to push their way to the exit doors, Loki sat still for a few seconds. Thor and Bucky would believe Steve innocent even if they watched him murder a small child. The man could do no wrong. But he was too damn perfect, no one was that perfect and Loki had a feeling the 'perfect' man might've snapped. He was a little frightened to get closer but moved to do so anyway, he needed to see for himself, assuming Thor and Bucky could manage to speak with the possible murderer.


	16. Chapter 16

**Zafona's Notes:**

**Aha! There is more than one of you still reading this ;) Thank you guys ^_^ We're pretty excited to see the responses, glad everyone's looking forward to this next chapter. So here it is! Enjoy**

* * *

"_Steven Rogers, a man given several Employee of the Month awards for 7 months in a row, almost about to get his eighth. A few months back he was given a medal for saving the men on his factory floor in a daring show of strength, the clip you see in the corner of your screen is footage lifted from Stark Industries of that exact moment. Now this same heroic man that has actually been known to volunteer all over the city for multiple reasons and has given to numerous charities has killed a man in cold blood. Just a few days ago during the Stark Expo-_"

Bruce shut the television off and sighed heavily, running a hand down his face. That was the seriously difficult solution he had expected and Steve indeed went as far as he needed to. Tony must be a wreck. Bruce rose from his chair and was on the move, heading straight to Stark Tower where he was certain Tony was in his office, possibly on the phone trying to get Steve out of jail, or cheering that Stane was gone and having a drink or two. Bruce would definitely go with the first one, if he had to choose.

Tony sat unmoving in his office chair, as he had for the previous two hours of his day. He was regaled as a technological genius, and yet when he'd needed his mind the most it had failed him. He couldn't have strung together a coherent sentence had his life depended on it, and the events from the previous evening played over and over in his mind on repeat. Obadiah was dead, and all of his holdings were to be inherited by his next of kin –which he had named as Tony in a publicity stunt 'of good faith.' The cynical old man had no family to speak of. Tony owned majority of the company, and his personal safety was no longer a matter of concern. With Tony's inheritance of Obadiah's shares he would have been charged with premeditated murder due to circumstance in a heartbeat –had Steve not taken the fall.

Steve. Tony missed him more than anything. It was thanks to him that Tony had even found the strength to pursue change, to dream of something better. Now he was free, and finally in control of his own life. All thanks to the one man, and the one thing that he wanted more than all of his otherwise good fortunes. Tony had never known life to be so unfair. Tony looked up from the floor at the sound of approaching footsteps outside his office door. He didn't rise on ceremony, or even make a move. He simply sat and waited.

The elevator swung open and the doctor walked inside, nervous eyes scanning around until he spotted Tony, "So... if I may, what happened back there?" He wasn't sure what happened backstage that day but he was certain that it wasn't what the media was making of it. Or it was, he couldn't be certain. All of the 'what if's and the 'I don't know's aside, Bruce had noticed Tony's behaviour was different. And that much he wasn't about to ignore. The biggest threat in his life was gone now, he was free, but at the same time his boyfriend was put away for it.

"Straight to the point," Tony noted aloud about Bruce's demeanour. He supposed that if he had nagging questions he would be too. Tony looked around the room, he had never been sure that Obadiah hadn't tapped his office –cameras, microphones, the whole nine yards. And what he'd explain to Bruce he couldn't afford to have on record. "Let's get something to eat."

Bruce nodded quietly, watching the tired and depressed way Tony seemed to do everything. _'It'll get better yet.'_ He thought to himself, it always was worse before it was better.

Tony didn't speak a word until he and Bruce were in Tony's car are away from the tower, "I killed him."

Bruce's expression went from calm to shock in the fastest time possible, "_You_ did?" He asked with his mouth gaping open. "I don't believe you." He said outright.

"Steve interfered when Stane pulled me aside at the Expo ceremonies, but Obadiah was too much for him," Tony swallowed thickly, almost uncomfortable with his own confession. "I could easily say that I'm always armed at large public events, but I'm not. It was stupid of me to bring it, but I'm glad I did. When Stane pulled a gun on Steve... I couldn't just watch."

Bruce nodded quietly, it made sense. "I guess he didn't have any better plans other than 'hey you – punch'." He mused softly, he kind of already knew it had to be that severe considering the powerful man Stane was. Of course Stane was more than just powerful in a political game, clearly, if Steve had been beaten. "So why did the police arrest Steve, then?"

"Steve's always been a quick thinker in a pinch, and he picked up the gun in time to be caught with it by the security guards. All in all, I should have him out on bail in a couple of days. He was incredibly cooperative, the prints on the gun are going to be mixed with mine, the evidence is entirely circumstantial, and the fact that my security buggered up the crime scene is ridiculous, but in this case quite helpful."

"Okay so in other words you can pay to have Steve out soon enough. Bail for a murderer isn't cheap but if anyone can do it, it's you." Bruce smiled and leaned back, "I'm glad, it sounds like it all went very well, considering."

Tony hazarded a smile, "Yeah, I guess it will be. You know, after a pricey bail, long court case, and years of therapy where I can't actually confess to a crime."

Bruce could have laughed but didn't, "You realize what your company does, right? You build weapons, Tony. People die because of what you do all the time. You're choosing now to have mental issues over it? Obadiah was a piece of shit and you know it, he deserved what you did and more. Hell, if I had any balls I would have done it but I'm too worried about consequences. Steve took the consequences for you, you have nothing to be concerned about, and the mental part of 'I killed a man' is ridiculous. Stane wasn't a man, or even human if you ask me. Now come on, I'm hungry."

"Alright, alright, I'm going." Tony smiled to himself, Bruce had a point: Obadiah was an animal in need of being put down. Not human, and there was no one Tony could think of who would mourn his passing. There was still something to be said for pulling the trigger rather than drawing the blueprint, but Tony supposed those were just technicalities.

As Tony was pulling off Stark Industry's lot a man stopped in front of his car's path, refusing to move until Tony pulled over. Loki swallowed anxiously, his limbs tight and stiff from the anger in him, this was clearly Tony Stark and if he was driving off somewhere it had better to be only one place. Tony pulled to a stop in front of the raven-haired man. He glanced to the passenger seat, exchanging a look with Bruce.

"What the hell?" Bruce adjusted his glasses, staring at the pale, black haired individual as he went to Tony's side and rapped on the window furiously.

"Hell if I know," Tony answered with a shrug. He really didn't feel like talking to strangers, be they reporters, paparazzi, curious bystanders, or employees. He just wasn't up for it. Nonetheless, Tony rolled down the driver's side window, half-way.

The moment the window was open even a crack Loki spoke up, "I know Steve wouldn't do something like that,"

"Woah," Tony shifted in his seat uncomfortably. He definitely wasn't opening the window further.

Bruce smiled a little, one of Steve's friends, fantastic. "Are you blaming Tony?" He asked with a very tightly wound tone, ready to snap back if need be.

"No, Steve definitely did that to himself," Loki looked down at Tony angrily, "Steve's been allowed visitors since about eight this morning, I just saw him, it's after noon. He wouldn't tell me what happened but I know it has to have something to do with you."

"He's allowed visitors?" Tony repeated aloud, mesmerized by the idea of it. Why hadn't Steve called him? He's allowed one call, and after dropping the L-word, Tony would've expected it be him. Apparently, that wasn't the case. As if momentarily absent, Tony returned to the 'conversation' at hand, and addressed Loki's accusation, "He took the fall for me." Tony admitted simply. "Obadiah's dead."

Loki's anger faded, eyes flickering with concern. "I don't know what you did or what he did, but you have to at least go and see him." He stepped away from the car, angling to go toward the building, he hadn't been waiting there to catch Tony though that had been a bonus. "When he mentioned that anyone could have visited by 8, the look in his eyes when he said that you hadn't been there... He doesn't know what happened to you after everything. At least go and tell him you're okay, if nothing else."

Tony wanted to argue, wanted scream that Steve hadn't called him, had preferred to call somebody else, but he didn't have the energy to do it. "I'll go see him," Tony informed the other man somberly. He wanted nothing more than to see Steve, to have all of this mess over and done with.

"Thank you." Loki looked relieved to hear it, "I can tell there are some miscommunications going on between you two, I'll let you sort it out. But honestly, thank you." With that Loki hurried inside, off to inform Bucky and Thor about Steve. Obviously the other two couldn't skip work and Steve's visiting hours had started when their shift had, so Loki went in their stead. He was on his way to tell them when he saw the car; he couldn't really pass that opportunity up.

Bruce looked over at Tony and shrugged, "Well you have two options, let me out and go to the prison, or take me with you to the prison."

"Would you come with?"

"Obviously," Bruce laughed, "Go, man. Go." He pointed down the road as if Tony didn't know which way.

* * *

The correctional officers at the remand centre didn't seem particularly happy with Tony's presence there. Something about the offenders requiring a list of allowed visitors and a days notice before arrival, but Tony never cared much for following regulations –Loki must not have either. After a short kerfuffle about 'one visitor at a time,' turning in any potential weapons, and signing a release waiver (for what, Tony wasn't sure) he was finally allowed an audience with Steve.

Steve looked up from where he was chained to a table, the orange jumpsuit looking so strange on him, the shackles on his ankles looking even more out of place. "Tony," he was about to get up when he remembered the thing keeping him in place; "Tony, are you okay?" he looked surprised to see his boyfriend, of all people. The relief in his eyes was so vivid it was almost painful to look at.

Tony looked Steve over, and it was difficult to see him like this. Tony sat down across from Steve, "I'm fine, Steve –but you look awful. I'm so sorry." Tony almost didn't want to bring it up, that nagging feeling of betrayal. But he knew if he didn't mention it, the thought would fester and come back later, bigger and worse than nipping it in the bud. "I know you're allowed a phone call," he said dryly, not looking directly at Steve, looking anywhere _but_ at Steve. "If you were so worried... I mean, if you cared that much, why didn't you call me? I didn't even know you were allowed visitors yet –I have to find it out from some angry stranger in the parking lot."

Blue eyes shifted toward the floor, he fidgeted and curled his lips in to bite on them lightly, thoughts swarming in his head. "I... I don't know how all of this stuff works," He looked up at Tony again, almost frightened but not quite there, his voice coming out in a whisper, "I thought it might ruin what I was trying to do if I called you, you know? It probably looks stupid to you, really..." Steve was clearly referring to his taking the fall for Tony, that he was scared the whole scenario could look strange if he'd called. "They might think we planned it together or something. That's what I thought when I picked up the phone, so I dialled home instead. I'm sorry that upset you, Tony." His eyes were fearful then, as if he'd ruined it between them again or had lost trust or respect or anything else.

Tony felt his heart sink in his chest, "Steve –I couldn't be more grateful for what you've done." Tony's eyes softened, and found Steve's again. "This will never work if you're afraid that any little thing you do could end it. We learned the first time –the hard way- that if something offended one of us, we _talk about it_, and not walk away. Don't be so scared, it worries me."

Steve closed his eyes and nodded, his heart pounding slightly in his chest. All he wanted at that moment was to take Tony in his arms and hold on, never let go. "I'm sorry, I'll talk to you next time, I promise." He didn't know what else to say or do at that moment, everything seemed so wrong but he was so happy that Tony was there, that he wasn't that upset with him over not calling. He was upset but not to the point of ending anything. It was a relief in a storm of anxieties and other things.

Tony laughed dryly, "Yeah, I recall making a promise to tell you 'next time' too, that didn't go as planned." Tony smiled at Steve, "Don't even worry about it."

"Thank you," Steve sighed in relief, at least that much had gone well.

It was hard for Steve, to lie to his friends, to tell them 'what he did' as if he were a real criminal. He took Bucky's tongue lashing and the sound of Thor's disappointment; he took it in and accepted it because that's what he had to do. But he couldn't believe what had happened that morning, that it was only Loki who had gone to see him. Of course the other two had work, they couldn't skip work... Though for some reason Steve kind of hoped they would. He'd lost their respect; their image of him had been badly damaged, he was sure. Loki was the one they sent in when none of them were sure, because somehow Loki was a decent judge of character and knew when a person was lying. He wondered what Loki had said to them, what he'd seen. The younger Odinson had arrived nearly looking down his nose at Steve, but he'd been forced to leave when their time had been up, his face twisted in confused concern. That was a scary look to see on Loki.

Steve was doing his best to hold it together for Tony, he could only imagine what the other man was going through, what Tony was thinking of himself and how bad it must be to know that someone else was taking the heat. He swallowed past the lump in his throat and forced his anxiety down, the feelings of not belonging in this place and fear for his future all pushed under the surface. He looked calm and reached forward with an open palm to take Tony's hand. "It'll work out, okay?"

Tony gratefully took Steve's hand. The last thing he wanted was to lose his boyfriend, his _best friend_, after all the trials and tribulations he'd gone through since losing him the first time. Things were rocky, but everything was going to get better from here, "I'll believe it as long as you do." Tony smiled at Steve, "I'm testifying in your defence; that you interfered on the grounds of aiding me. There's no looming threat now that Obadiah's gone, and Bruce and Pepper will testify to his abusive tendencies. As will a good portion of the blackmailed executives. You'll be out of here in no time, you'll see."

Steve teared up a little but nodded firmly, a soft laugh escaping him. "That's… incredible, thank you. I'll leave the legal stuff in your hands, I think." He glanced down shyly, fingers fidgeting again as if he wanted to say something important. "I love you, Tony."

Tony beamed, glad that Steve still felt the same way, that it wasn't one of those things people say as a final word because they were going to die. "I love you too, Steve."

* * *

Bruce sat casually kicking his legs on a surprisingly high bench, musing silently at how it really brought him back to his younger days where he'd been much shorter. He glanced up at the guards staring down at him sceptically, as if they wanted to make a big fuss about another visitor seeing Steve Rogers. "Don't worry," Bruce waved a hand at the guy, "I don't actually want to see him, just waiting for Tony." And after saying so the guard seemed to relax a bit. But only a little bit. The visiting room was being monitored very seriously, it was suspicious to see Steve, the man who killed Obadiah Stane and supposedly about to kill Tony Stark, sitting in the same room as the latter. Bruce shrugged, deciding that telling them it was stupid to worry about it was also stupid, and continued to swing his legs out from underneath him.

Tony walked up to the bench, "My time's up, how about we go get that lunch now?"

Bruce glanced up and smiled, "Sounds awesome."


	17. Chapter 17

**Zafona's Notes:**

**Some of your reviews really made me laugh (boom, shit done flipped on itself) Regardless, thank you so much for them :) And I hope this chapter suits your needs for wanting to see Steve redeemed a bit. **

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Loki walked onto the factory floor, ignoring the fact that it said personnel only on the door he'd used. A slender-framed man appearing in the room was slightly out of place, being fairly sharply dressed was even more out of place among most of the worker men. Loki's eyes swept over the room and as he realized there could be well over a hundred men present, he decided to approach the foreman. "Excuse me," he smiled charismatically and motioned toward the crew, "Would you mind retrieving a Thor Odinson and Bucky Barnes? I'd like to speak with them."

The foreman looked at how Loki was dressed and assumed that, since only workers were 'allowed' back there (and he had a foreign accent) that Loki must in fact be someone from higher up the chain and they just hadn't met. "Yes, of course sir."

"Thank you," Loki watched as his brother and friend were called over, a slight wave of his hand in their direction as their eyes seemed to snap his way.

Bucky attempted an exchange of glances with his larger friend, who characteristically ignored him in favour of his feminine brother, as evidenced by his outspoken proclamation, "Brothah!" Thor shouted as he approached, a grin plastered on his face. Whatever the news had been with Steve, Thor would always be happy to see family.

Loki cringed, his charismatic smile fading slightly. _'Thor you big stupid oaf…'_ He thought dismally but waved awkwardly to the fast approaching blonde regardless.

The foreman shot Loki an odd look, "Brother?" It was quickly apparent to the man that he'd been duped.

"Ah," Loki smiled brightly and shrugged, "What can I say? It's not all business." He then glowered at the bright eyed idiot he called brother.

"So?" Bucky inquired as he stepped up to Loki's side, "What's the word?"

The raven-haired male motioned to leave before the foreman decided to interfere, "Follow me." Loki stepped out with them and crossed his arms, "So, I went to see Steve this morning, since he had visitors and all." He started explaining as he began to pace back and forth slightly, mind reorganizing itself. "I don't think he did it." He finally decided on the words to use. "After talking with him I really don't think he did it."

Both of the workingmen had to pause and consider the thought. "Why would he tell you different?" Bucky asked his friend, not quite fully understanding the implications, "He outright told me that he killed Obadiah Stane. All for that stupid crush of his."

Thor raised a hand to Bucky, intending to quiet him. "Let my brother speak." Thor desperately wanted to believe Loki. While Bucky had lost himself to a fit of rage over the matter, Thor was more grief-stricken than anything. Steve wasn't that sort of man.

Loki found a bench to sit down on because he felt he had to (he had, after all, walked from the prison to Stark Industries where Thor and Bucky work, he'd only had enough money on him to get a taxi from home to the jail holding Steve), "He told me right to my face that he did it and he'd do it again but it didn't sound real, he looked out of place there, everything about him looked out of place and he sounded wrong. You know how he sounds when he's lying or something like that? He tries his hardest to sound like he's telling the truth and usually it works but... I'm not an authority figure; I don't think he was trying to convince me as hard as he was them. He's frightened, he took the fall for someone else, Tony is my guess but I'm not sure. He's scared of what's going to happen to him now, of where he'll end up and my bet is that he's scared he let his mom down."

Bucky gawked, he couldn't help it. "That's not like Steve, he doesn't just take the fall for people. He's always been an advocate of 'getting what you deserve/work for.' He's in deep if he did that for Tony." Bucky shook his head, and tried to dismiss the whole thing as a nightmare, and nothing more. "I don't even want to get into the 'letting down his mom' discussion."

"Well what are we waiting for?" Thor called back to his friends, already several paces down the street, "Let's go see him, we can't just leave him in misery."

"And we can't just leave work!" Bucky countered, but he really wasn't feeling the argument. "Aw, what the hell. Let's go."

Loki smiled; he had sent Tony and Bruce earlier so he doubted that they'd get to see their friend. Steve was only allowed a certain number of visitors and with Loki and Tony for sure, that was two down. It was a violent crime, as well. That made it less likely he'd be allowed more than two, but if it made Thor happy to walk over there then Loki would join them.

* * *

It was only one weekend between the time of Steve's arrest and his release on bail. Typically, bail in New York only took about an hour to arrange, depending on the penitentiary. However, given the violence of the crime and the suspicion aroused by Steve's assistance from Tony Stark, he was held over the weekend for bail processing. His hearings and the court date itself were of course still up and coming. Assuming Tony's celebrity status, chances were fairly good that it'd be on the docket a lot sooner than anything else, while public interest was still high, but the revolving door of justice was supposed to play favourites for no one. The day proceeding release Steve had been sat down with his lawyer –a well to do professional from Stark Industries' legal team, and explained the terms of his probation.

The guard approached the cell and Steve stood when the officer came to get him. He kept his expression as neutral as he could, however it wasn't like him at all and he found it very difficult to maintain. He was the 'wear my heart on my sleeve' kind of man, and often his emotions shone through despite his best efforts. His cellmate playfully smacked his rear as he exited, "Later, pretty boy."

Steve snapped a glare on the other guy but kept walking, deciding to not really dignify that with a response. He'd won every night so far, his cell mate ended up on the floor after a foot to the face. Of course, that didn't mean Steve hadn't come horribly close to the cheating act, he was still hurt from his fight with Stane and he hadn't been very strong during the other guy's first attempts to take him. That didn't mean he wasn't a fighter, and that didn't mean the criminal was stronger than him. Steve was injured and still kicked the guy's ass. It was a pretty big help to his bruised ego, at least he knew he wasn't a weakling that looked big.

Tony walked around the reception area –he wouldn't have called it pacing himself, but he was never one to stand still. So long as his mind was busy his body usually was too –which was why engineering had always been a better calling, so much less theory and so much more _doing_. It had only been a couple of days since visiting Steve in remand, but to Tony it was already starting to feel like a lifetime. He'd got the ball rolling on Steve's case, but that had included little more than expending legal force on it. Steve aside, there was the entire restructuring of power in the boardroom, not to mention Obadiah's funeral, asset inheritance, and so forth. At that moment in time however, Tony couldn't care less as he waited for those doors to swing open.

Steve exited through some grungy looking doors, prodded along by the officers one last time after his shackles had been removed. Blue eyes nearly sparkled as he spotted his boyfriend, tears threatening to slip from his determinedly dry eyes. Tony already looked amazing, it was only a matter of time before all the bruises were gone and a thing of the past, Steve could hardly wait. "Tony!" he ran across the room and scooped Tony into his arms, snuggling his cheek against the other man's affectionately. His mind wasn't entirely in the 'take the fall' game at that moment, he was too happy to see a friendly face.

"Steve!" Tony exclaimed in reply, equally as excited to see his other half. Tony returned the hug, demonstrating to Steve his improved health. Tony pulled back just far enough to plant a kiss on Steve's cheek, hopefully getting the cuddly-boy's attention enough to turn and face him for a proper exchange.

"You look so good," Steve muttered against his skin before leaning back again and wrapping Tony in a more appropriate hug, "God, I missed you." He had been spending the last while with Tony, the last few months as the man's boyfriend and comforter and support but it hadn't felt right yet. Now it did, or at least he knew it was going to. Tony was already so much better and it had only been a week or so, Steve figured their relationship could finally pick up where it should be.

"I missed you too," Tony replied softly. He knew he'd laugh in the future, that out of all of their respective habits, it was Steve's that landed him in an orange jumpsuit, and not Tony. Tony chuckled, "You look like hell warmed over. Let's get you out of that hideous orange suit and something more flattering –I was thinking shopping in Milan this time." Tony smiled broadly at Steve, a mischievously twinkle in his eye to match his Cheshire cat grin.

The blonde smiled widely and pressed their lips together, finally able to kiss him the way he wanted without worrying he might be doing something upsetting, that they might be noticed by the tyrannical monster shot a week or so before. Steve didn't let Tony go, refused to unhand him as their mouths were reacquainted.

Tony responded positively to the kiss and embrace, finally able to let go of the nagging feeling of dread that he'd be found out and punished. The most traumatizing part of the entire ordeal was, undoubtedly, never knowing _why_ it was happening. It wasn't unlike an abused child, never receiving the reasons for the beatings, but just the beatings themselves. Obadiah had wanted control –of the company, of his colleagues, of Tony's intellect –everything. Tony doubted there was a coherent plan behind the larger man's assaults, and if there ever was he'd never figure it out. But for once it was enough for Tony to not know, to just let go of it and all of the memories of late night visits, shame and self-disgust, and overnight hospital stays. Just let it go, and embrace his new life with Steve.

The last time they were actually physical had been back in high school on that trip, since reuniting they hadn't done anything serious and Steve had been itching to get a feel for Tony again, to have their bodies touching, hands clasped together or in each other's hair. He moaned softly before easing back again, reminding himself they needed to get moving because they were still in the station.

"Can we uh…" Steve blushed lightly, a little embarrassed at how he'd just acted, "Can we go?"

Tony smiled again –or still, he'd forgotten that Steve had that effect on him. "Yeah, let's get the hell out of here."

Once they were outside it was like a mad house, the media had shown up with cameras, video cameras, reporters and whatever else. Tony Stark, a celebrity who had been presumably attacked, had paid bail on the assumed attacker. Steve winced when several flashes went off in his face, people pushing into his personal space, pushing past his bubble and into more intimate proximity. He felt his face flush red and anger and embarrassment swelling within him, hand gripping onto Tony a little tighter.

Tony was no stranger to a possessive grip, and he doubted Steve understood the effects that it could have on him. Tony dismissed it –Steve didn't know, couldn't possibly understand it. Tony placed a comforting hand on Steve's shoulder, wordlessly telling him that it was ok.

"Mr. Stark! Mr. Stark!" The voices were mixing but the one little nag to get Tony's attention seemed to be on repeat with everyone. All vying for Tony's gaze and answers and in doing so at the same time, none received it.

Steve kept his head low, eyes down as they moved to Tony's car, catching the sound of some voices going on about what a monster, or what could he have done to Tony to have the man going to bail him out after the assault. He wanted to correct them, tell them that it wasn't true, that they were mistaken but what could he really do? Nothing just let it all roll down his back and be proud in the fact that he knew the truth. Sure, he'd failed Tony and that was nothing to be proud about but at least he knew he hadn't done what they thought he had. And even better, he was protecting Tony from those stares and horrible words. That thought in mind, Steve smiled and glanced at Tony to show he wasn't regretting any of it. Of course, he knew they'd probably end up discussing it later but for now a look would suffice.

Tony wouldn't have it anymore, and turned to face the media despite knowing Steve's preference, which would be to just disappear. "Alright, quiet down because I'm only making one statement on this: Steve Rogers has been _accused of_ –not "convicted" of, murdering my business partner, Obadiah Stane. Steve Rogers is a good man, and my personal hero. The attempt on my life was made by afore mentioned business partner, not Steve." Tony knew he couldn't mention too much, lest his lawyers give him an earful for complicating the defence case further, but Steve didn't deserve the world thinking he was some cold-blooded killer.

Steve stared at his boyfriend in awestruck silence, cameras flashing even harder at him now that a little more truth had gotten out. Steve was starting to be painted a self-sacrificing hero and not the murderous beast that he'd previously been considered. It was a nice feeling to see those eyes gazing at him differently, hearing the reporters each go off toward their own cameras, reviewing the information just given. "Tony," he sighed with a smile, sounding a little upset by it though his expression showed the opposite.

Tony flashed him a bright smile. He knew what Steve needed, and that was self-esteem; an encouragement and reminder of his 'good-guy' status. Tony was of course _floored_ that Steve was so fragile –he'd never remembered the man to be so easily shaken. It made the billionaire wonder what other rats' nests he'd find in the corners of Steve's psyche. "That's all," Tony replied to the resulting tumultuous backlash from the crowd before sliding into the car next to Steve. "Happy, drive."

The car was fairly roomy, which was nice because Steve had been expecting something cramped. The windows were tinted and Tony's driver Happy was behind the wheel. That meant he had more time for his boyfriend.

Steve shuffled closer and wrapped his arms around Tony again, not wanting to be too far away if he didn't have to be. "Thank you, again." He whispered, leaning over and planting a kiss on Tony's cheek. "How have you been?" Steve hadn't heard much about how Tony's mentality had been, how he was taking the last few events. "I've been worried, we didn't get a chance to talk about it before when you visited so…"

"So don't worry about it," Tony replied easily, smooth as ever. "I'm piecing me back together, whoever 'I' am. I'm surprisingly good at bouncing back, I doubt even a Taliban terrorist group could keep me down for long."

Steve looked at him oddly for a moment but decided that if Tony wanted to handle it this way he'd let him. Of course he'd keep an eye out for any possible backlash but seeing the little sparkle in those brown eyes gave him a bit of hope that maybe he wouldn't have to worry about it. "If you say so," he leaned over and gently turned Tony's face toward his so they could be just a bit closer, kissing him again to be sure that Tony knew the interest hadn't faded. "You always were pretty impressive, I think you'll be fine." He looked up tentatively, "But, you know, if you aren't you'll let me know, right?"

"Impressive?" Tony laughed, "I thought you said I was... irresponsible, not a team player, and that I didn't take things seriously? Arrogant, self-centered, spoiled... should I go on? I could, you know, because you said a lot more than that." Tony smirked at Steve, "Honestly, only time will tell. I'll let you know in my own way, but you'll have to recognize it. And that is up to you."

"I did say that, yes." Steve grinned back, "And I'll do my best to recognize it." He leaned over and kissed Tony again, a sweet little thing.

* * *

Loki stared at the news on TV with a slack jawed expression, apparently the media had somehow figured out that Tony Stark was moving to make Steve's bail but his closest friends hadn't been contacted. They hadn't had a chance to talk to him, as Loki had expected Steve hadn't been allowed more visitors, the police weren't particularly willing to allow him all the luxuries they could grant. No one likes a murderer. But of course that didn't mean that Loki and the others thought that's what he was, they just weren't allowed in because everyone else thought so.

Scumbag media, they were privy to information that apparently close friends weren't. Regardless, they hadn't been there to see Steve out on bail. "Thor!" Loki called, turning around and leaning over the couch so his voice would carry to the basement gym, he never went down to get his brother, yelling for him seemed to be just as worth it. "Thor! Get up here!"

Thor placed the bench weight back on its stand and lifted himself off up. "What!" He hollered up in return. He could barely hear Loki in the basement as it was, and it didn't sound as though his younger brother had any plans on continuing their conversation through the floor. Thor took the stairs two at a time and sauntered into the living room, using the towel over his neck to wipe the sweat from his brow. "What is it?" he prompted again.

"Look, Steve's been released." Loki pointed at the screen as if it weren't already obviously the reason he hollered was for the TV's sake.

Thor regarded the television for a moment, "Interesting –media sensations never last long, this will pass."

"We should go and see him, right? I mean… Obviously he's gone with Tony, so they'll be going to Tony's house and I don't know where that is." Loki was drumming his hands along his leg anxiously, he wanted to get the truth and figure out what had all happened, figure out why Steve had done it the first place, and generally what his relationship was like with Tony. None of them had met Tony Stark, not really. Loki had gotten the chance to harass him in the parking lot but hadn't introduced himself or anything. It was a little odd, he figured, from the billionaire's perspective. But that wasn't a big deal, not really. "So we call him, then." Loki handed Thor the phone, clearly not intending to do it himself.

"We'll be fortunate if Steve even has his phone," Thor replied sceptically, but nevertheless placed the call. If the arresting officers had confiscated Steve's personal affects, then he would've undoubtedly had them returned to him.

"Hello?" Steve had fished his phone out of his things that somehow Tony's people had collected for him; it was all ready and waiting in the car on the way there.

"Steve!" Thor answered with exuberance, "We saw the news. I didn't know you were getting out on bail."

"Thor! Hey, yeah I'm out." Steve looked over at Tony with a sheepish smile, covering the receiver for a moment, "My friends really wanted to see me, do you feel like meeting them?"

Tony seemed to consider it for a moment –meeting Steve's friends, sounded about as important as meeting his family. Tony supposed it might be a relationship marker and consented, "I suppose we should pay them a visit before leaving the country."

Steve went right back to the phone with his answer, "So Tony and I will come by, get Bucky over there too- whoa, wait what?" He looked back at Tony as the words actually hit him, "We're leaving the country? I'm still going to be tried, I can't just up and leave, that's part of the whole 'trust me to be out on bail in the first place' thing, isn't it?"

"Pulled and yanked, huh?" Steve raised an eyebrow, "That sounds slightly illegal…"

Tony smirked, "Illegal and immoral are two very different things. I wouldn't worry about it."

Loki was pressed up against Thor's side as he also listened in on the phone conversation catching the important parts enough to know that he needed to call Bucky over, hurrying off to get to that.

Thor 'hmm'd to himself, listening to Steve's side conversation –the guy had always had terrible phone etiquette. "Loki's going to call Bucky," he informed Steve casually, "So should I play nice or interrogate your boyfriend? I've never had the chance before."

Steve grinned, "A little of both? Just stay decent and I doubt I'll have an issue."

Thor chuckled, "Alright then, have it your way."

"Alright, see you soon, Thor." A click of a button and the call ended just like that. Steve nestled beside Tony on the couch in his living space; they'd already made it to Tony's home and had gotten comfortable though nothing particularly interesting had happened. "So…" he slipped a hand around Tony's lower back and tucked him in close, he couldn't get enough of feeling his boyfriend next to him. This was how they were supposed to be; he could feel the regret slipping in, considering where they would have been if they'd stayed together until this point. They might have even gotten married, laws permitting. It was insane to think he'd lost all of that. But that's why he was wiping the memory clean, decidedly not dwelling on it. The past was past and all he could control was in the future, and he fully intended to control it, make the most of it. "We go and spend the afternoon with my friends, you can meet Thor, Loki, and Bucky. After that," he trailed off while leaning closer to Tony's ear, "we come back here for the evening and… figure something else out. Sound good?" He could mean just about anything, watch a movie, have a drink, or anything else, sexual activities included.

Tony sighed contentedly, snuggled into the small space with Steve beside him. He raised an eyebrow at Steve's lewd suggestion; "You've pulled a one-eighty in the past seven years, haven't you?" Tony mulled the idea over in his head while absent-mindedly fiddling with the hem of his shirt. Was there a right answer here? The right answer, he surmised, was whatever he was comfortable with. "How about we figure that out when we get back?"

A soft laugh escaped the blonde and he nodded, "That sounds good too." He could have taken that as the 'actually I don't want to have sex with you or whatever' kind of line but he didn't, Tony was just playing around, as was he and quite frankly it didn't matter whether they did or didn't. "Whatever you want."

Tony snuggled into Steve's embrace, smiling, "You know I'm not that fragile. I appreciate the concern, but don't overdo it. When are we going?"

"Oh he's a tough guy now?" Steve grinned and reached around to tickle Tony, just a bit before nuzzling his cheek affectionately, "Alright, alright, I'll give it a rest. Might as well go now, right? Come on." He lifted Tony up as he stood; playfully spinning him about before putting him back on the floor, "Leaves more time for other things later." He added with a wink as he sauntered toward the elevator.

"Yup, my little Steve Rogers is all grown up, and a full-blown sexual predator," Tony joked, and followed Steve's lead.


	18. Chapter 18

**Zafona's Notes:**

**Thank you everyone for reading this story and reviewing and everything like that XD I hope you're all enjoying it, one more chapter left after this one, I hope you all let us know what you're thinking and maybe check out the other stories we've written XD There will be more coming, of course so maybe give us a follow or something. **

**Also sorry this update took so long, both Matsu and I are in school (and she works full time so that's nice too). Hope you like it!**

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Steve took Tony's hand as they walked up the front steps of the Odinson home, his lips spread in that smile that beamed charm, pride, and a hundred other things. "Ready?" He looked over at Tony excitedly, for him this really was like showing his boyfriend off to his family, because in truth he had no one else.

"Of course," Tony answered curtly, "Why wouldn't I be? It's not like I'd be nervous about meeting the people in your life closest to you or anything." The revealing, fast-talking babble: his specialty. "Well they're not going to sense our presence," Tony quickly changed the subject, and rang the door bell.

Thor looked up from his magazine on the couch, "That must be them." He hopped off the sofa and sped past Loki and Bucky, "I've got it!"

"I wasn't even going to try," Bucky replied easily, not taking his eyes from the television.

Loki chuckled, "Not much for sport, are you?" He teased.

"I don't see you jumping out of your seat, hostess-with-the-mostest," Bucky shot back.

Thor yanked the door open, excited to see his friend returned from prison, "Steve! I am grateful that you could make it."

Steve smiled brightly, knowing that the media was already working on clearing his name, that his friends would know the truth before anything else. "Hey," he offered the simple greeting though it wouldn't suffice, not really. He'd only really been gone for a week but it felt like an eternity for all of them. He caught Thor in a hug, glad that his friend was so enthusiastic to see him, that his name hadn't been marred because of all this. "I'm glad you guys wanted to see me."

Thor clapped Steve on the back, "Come in, come in! We've snacks and pizza. I'm eager to hear your side of the story after all of this.

"I'm sure you are." Steve returned the friendly gesture happily.

Tony quietly followed Steve and Thor into the house. He felt like an outsider already: fantastic.

Loki rose and walked to the doorway, waving at Tony a little, knowing the man would recognize him as that crazy guy from the parking lot. "Hello again," He smiled charmingly though he wasn't sure if it came across as sincere. They were finally getting the chance to meet the man Steve seemed to already dedicate his life to.

"Hey," Tony answered in what was probably the meekest reply he'd ever mustered. Friendly, 'family' settings did not sit well with him. The house was too small, the people in it were too big, and everyone seemed overly close. It wasn't the cut and clear business atmosphere he was used to, or the vagrant party scene he occasioned. It was something he was wholly unfamiliar with, and Steve wanted to share it with him.

Bucky looked over the back of the couch toward the entrance, toward Steve. He hadn't had a chance to visit Steve in prison while they were processing his bail, and he wasn't entirely sure he'd wanted to. Steve never should've ended up there, whether he deserved it or not. It wasn't who Steve _was_; Steve was a momma's boy, and good soldier's son. He was a community-minded man, a friend, and a hard worker. He wasn't supposed to be taking the fall for murders. In all the time that had passed, he still didn't have the slightest idea of what to say to Steve.

Steve moved to Bucky, a little concerned that his friend who he knew would have taken it the hardest would be a bit sore about the whole thing. "I'm really sorry," He tried to say something that would make things better but what could he really do other than apologize. "I should have… I don't know, I shouldn't have lied to you guys."

"Steve," Bucky started to reply, but he still didn't know what to say. "You are the stupidest person I've ever known," Bucky said with tears in his eyes, and pulled his friend into a tight hug. "You could've gotten yourself killed! Guns?! You've never even _held_ one! What kind of bullshit is that, you shot a man?"

Steve held on tightly, tears rimming his eyes mimicking Bucky's, and a few slipping past his defenses. "I know," he muttered, a soft laugh shaking his shoulders, "I know." The larger man leaned back again, not entirely wanting to let go of his childhood friend but he did. "I swear there's a story to go with this."

"Yeah, well I'm all ears."

Steve smiled and nodded, he knew he'd have to explain himself at some point though he wasn't sure how long the guys were willing to wait for it. Starting the night off with a 'so Tony killed somebody and took the hit for him' wasn't a great idea or a good way to introduce his new boyfriend.

Lastly of course he went to Loki and didn't hesitate to hug him because he knew the younger Odinson wouldn't initiate it himself. "And thank you for sending Tony to me that day," he said softly, glad to finally be back among friendly faces. There was just something inherently unfriendly about cellmates.

"You're very welcome," Loki chuckled and leaned back to see Tony, "So introduce us all, Steve. That's quite the catch you've got there."

Tony raised an eyebrow in suspicion, something about Loki just didn't sit right with him, but Tony decided not to dwell on it –it was probably just the foreign environment. And Loki's first impression.

"Oh, right of course, guys this is my boyfriend, Tony." Steve moved to Tony's side immediately, arm slipping around his hip easily, "Tony, this is Thor and Loki Odinson, and my long time best friend Bucky."

Tony nodded an acknowledgement and offered a polite greeting, "Hi, it's a pleasure to meet you."

Loki gave a quick bow of his head in a sort of greeting. "Pleasure to meet you too, officially I mean."

"Right," Tony's expression cracked into a smile, "You're the most well-dressed crazy I've ever seen trespass at my company."

Bucky burst out laughing, "How'd you know? That Loki was crazy, I mean?" It was the first full sentence he'd really heard Steve's beloved boyfriend speak, and it was the most out of place, unintentional insult he could've possibly laid on the over-sensitive younger Odinson.

Loki stuck his tongue out at Bucky but looked at Tony, "I'm going to choose to take that as a compliment, the well-dressed part anyway. Though I will admit, I wasn't entirely on the ball that day. I hadn't expected the chance to speak to you."

"I expect not," Tony laughed, "You ran out in front of my car. Not the sort of thing one normally plans."

"All sort of terribly improvised." Loki smiled.

All things were settled, friendships repaired if they'd ever been damaged. Steve immediately settled Tony in the living room with Bucky and Loki as he dragged Thor to the kitchen to get drinks ready. He knew his large friend would have a supply of some kind so he wasn't terribly concerned about it. "So what do you think?" Steve looked up anxiously, his excitement clear across his face. "Cute, right?" He didn't expect the same answer but it was the first thing that came to mind so he just sort of blurted it out.

Thor couldn't help but laugh, "I'm sure many people would warn you against being so excited over 'the one that got away' but I won't be one of them" He smiled at the shorter male and clapped Steve on the shoulder, "In all the years I've known you, I've never seen you so giddy. I'm happy for you Steve, but honestly, I've seen cuter."

Steve made a face and waved off the comment, "Pfft, just wait until he's more comfortable. Tony's pretty charming he's just out of his element."

"If you say so."

"I do."

Steve intended on bringing Tony over to his friends' places a lot in the future, quite frankly he wanted to introduce Tony to the homely lifestyle, to show him that a family setting was actually more comfortable than he was feeling now. It was all about getting closer to others, let them care about you.

In the other room Loki looked over at Tony with a fairly innocent smile, "I have to say, it seemed kind of strange for Steve to hook up with an old heart throb but I'm actually really glad he's with you. Steve loves to take care of people, something you can provide him with, but you're also capable of taking care of him even if he doesn't realize you're doing it." It took a moment but Loki managed to look sincere for once, not something he was particularly good at when he was actually being honest, "I like you, so I'll ask it first; please take care of him."

Tony's expression was somber and reserved as he heard Loki out. His first impression of the other man was one of haughty self-reverence, but Tony was quickly coming to realize that Loki had a soft spot for others. The genius smiled softly, communicating with Loki in a non-verbal fashion that he appreciated his concerns. "Thank you Loki, it means a lot to hear you say that. I'll do my best," Tony smirked, "and my best has always been amazing."

Loki grinned in return, "Then I suppose I have nothing to worry about."

"But I have to know –why is it surprising that Steve would give someone a second chance?"

"It's not," Bucky interjected, "But giving you a second chance didn't have to include dating you again. It's surprising that Steve had a loose end, he's usually really good at reaching conclusions and finding closure." Bucky took a fistful of chips from the coffee table, "But I agree with Loki, I'm glad Steve did give you that chance, if not for his own sake."

"Hey, are you guys bugging Tony?" Steve asked as they walked back in, a raised eyebrow angled Loki's direction in particular, the known pest of their group.

"Not at all, just impatiently waiting for you to tell us what actually happened." Loki glanced up, barely attempting to hide his curiosity.

"He's not lying," Tony agreed with the younger Odinson, "He _is_ impatient."

"You're hilarious." Loki raised an eyebrow at him playfully before turning back to Steve, eyes wider, waiting for the man's story.

Steve exchanged a glance with Tony as he handed out the drinks he'd carried in. "Well," he went and sat beside his boyfriend, making sure he sat close so Tony wouldn't feel singled out. "I'll just say Tony was in trouble with someone, if he wants to elaborate he can but I don't want to push it if he isn't prepared to share that part."

"Your story is yours to tell on how you ended up in prison," Tony casually informed Steve, "And I'll fill in whatever blanks need filling." Tony smiled fondly at his boyfriend and placed a hand on Steve's knee. He was aware that whatever Steve said would reflect on his own situation, but he trusted Steve, and he wanted to trust Steve's friends.

Steve put his hand on Tony's, offering a reassuring smile before starting. "Obadiah Stane was essentially blackmailing Tony and there was nothing we could do without Stane making it so much worse. After the Expo he was about to kill Tony so I stepped in." Steve looked over at Tony again, wondering how he could put it delicately but couldn't find anything to make it sound good without spilling all the beans. "Tony saved my life, I was in over my head with Obadiah and he pulled the trigger."

Loki looked over at Tony with a bit of surprise; he hadn't expected to hear that. They owed Tony a thank you, if it hadn't been for him Steve would have been in a much worse place than prison.

"Wow," Bucky said simply, staring between Steve and Tony. "I think I should be more shocked than I am, but I'm just not. Why was Obadiah going to kill Tony? That part still doesn't make any sense to me."

"Well that's the short of it," Tony explained, "For some clarification, Obadiah Stane was my father's business partner, and held a hefty portion of the company's stock and shares. Imagine Hollywood blackmail and a power trip. Obie probably didn't get along with my old man, and usually when an executive shareholder dies, the shares are inherited by the family, and the business has an insurance payout for losing the employee. This insurance payout is supposed to be used to buy the shares off of the deceased employee's family, but instead, I kept the shares and took on my father's role in the company."

Bucky frowned, "There's nothing 'hollywood' about insurance policies, that's just boring."

"Alright," Tony conceded, "How about the fact that I was 17 at the time of death, and Obie was left as my godfather. He despised me, for what, I don't know." Tony paused, absent-mindedly regarding Steve, "Ok, I may or may not have been a tad obnoxious in my teens, not to mention the publicity I received. I think he just wanted the spotlight, and the power. What's the MO of a psychopath, exactly?"

"That's a bit more Hollywood," Bucky conceded, and gave a sagely nod. "Right down to the inconspicuous plot holes."

Steve rolled his eyes at his friend, "Why does everything have to be as big as 'Hollywood' for you?"

"Bigger, actually." Loki added playfully.

Steve chuckled and put an arm around Tony, squeezing his boyfriend's shoulders, "Well I don't really care if it's a big spectacle or something private, Obadiah was a monster."

"And you did very well, considering. You got your ass kicked and then saved by the guy you were looking to take care of, good job." Loki smirked, getting a scolding look from Steve.

"You're just loving that, aren't you?" Steve cracked up a little, he was aware it was funny, considering who he was and the fact that he'd fail at something like that could be nothing but amusing.


	19. Chapter 19

Evening came and the drive to Tony's home was comfortable and for the life of him Steve couldn't stop talking, about his friends, about what they might think of Tony, asking what Tony thought of them and going off on tangents about their lives and different humourous stories. It was a fantastic day for him, especially considering he'd gotten out of prison that morning.

Once the door to Tony's place had been unlocked Steve wasted no time in picking up his billionaire boyfriend and carrying him inside, capturing his lips in another passionate kiss, he couldn't get Tony out of his mind for the last few months and now there were no strings attached to anything they were doing, there was nothing stopping him and so he wouldn't stop. He believed that the warmth of Tony's body pressed against him would be more than enough on a cool night. The soft moans the genius muffled into their kiss was driving him a little wild, his hands squeezing lightly on whatever body part they happened to be supporting, trying to pull the smaller man closer though clothes and skin were in the way.

Steve slipped his shoes off, his grip firm and stable as he headed straight for Tony's bedroom, hearing no protest from his boyfriend. He dropped Tony into the sheets, falling over top of him, supporting himself above the heated body below. Finally breaking the kiss Steve's eyes sparkled while gazing down, something just seemed to glow all around him, reddened lips pulled into a smile. "You're beautiful."

Tony had a natural ego from his childhood and teenaged years but the last few since his father's death he'd been beaten down and a lot of his self-confidence destroyed along with everything else. He acted as though he were everything, like he was the most desired man in America, that didn't mean he believed it. "Steve…" he whispered softly, a hand reaching up to touch the broad expanse of Steve's chest, feeling the hardened muscle beneath, the same muscle that seemed so big in the past but clearly had nothing on what Steve was displaying in his older years. "I don't think you're allowed to call people beautiful."

Steve chuckled and kissed him again, "Adorable too."

Tony's breath hitched when he felt those strong hands gliding down his sides to the edge of his shirt, something felt entirely different about this touch than any touch he'd received in the past 8 or so years. Steve Rogers had been gorgeous in the past and also a straight-laced pain in the ass, but he'd been gentle, his touch always heated and fervent like he absolutely _needed_ every little bit Tony had to offer him. Those soft little moans after Tony barely even grazed the tip of his arousal were torturous at the very least; Steve had been so sensitive and new to all of it. Tony wondered if Steve was any more used to it now than he had been, or if maybe he really had been scared off of the sexual scene.

Steve tentatively lifted Tony's shirt from his back, exposing skin that hadn't been shown to anyone but doctors and possibly Obadiah, but he really didn't want to consider that. The bruises were still there but faded, cuts and scrapes healed, the vaguest remnants of scars left over. He smiled and trailed his hand along the hot flesh, feeling the temperature rise even a little higher. Tony wasn't thinking about how he looked because he already knew Steve, he knew Steve would never judge or be disgusted or anything else, possibly the kindest man Tony had ever met and he finally appreciated what he had, appreciating that he had Steve to himself.

Gentle kisses and little bites trailing down Tony's neck and torso, Steve spent as much time as he wanted on exploring, getting to know the little things about his boyfriend's body and working him up slowly. It was like a line of fire wherever Steve's lips touched, Tony gasped lightly and shifted in the warming bedding, fingers finding their way to the blonde locks on his partner's head. They didn't need to discuss if they were ready anymore, they didn't need to figure out how much longer they should wait. They'd been dating for a few months now and after the nightmare with Stane it was about damn time they both got a little something out of it.

Control was entirely in Steve's hands this time, Tony let him set the pace though that didn't mean he planned to lay back and do nothing, he was just waiting for the blonde to be ready, waiting until he could start doing the dirty things he'd always imagined doing to that sweet church-going boy. He groaned softly when Steve reached his hip, bucking up a little only to have his hips caught by a strong grip and pushed back down. He could have fought it but listened obediently, rolling his head back, eyes closed as he enjoyed the slow appreciation of his body. Steve nimbly unfastened Tony's pants and started to slowly pull them down, his fingers hooked in the soft fabric the billionaire's briefs and tugged them right along as well. Tony could feel his face heating up and that familiar twitch below his belt. He hadn't been paying attention so much to his groin while Steve had been feeling him up, at some point he'd gotten fairly hard, possibly the anticipation of Steve lying with him or just the touching in general. Either way it was a nice little surprise.

Steve hummed quietly as the swollen appendage bobbed free from the clothing, blue eyes blackened with lust as they followed the motion eagerly. Tony looked down at the right moment apparently, because he couldn't remember the last time he'd wanted to take a person apart as much as he did right then. "You're a lot bigger than I remember," Steve muttered as he leaned closer, almost enough that his eyelashes could tickle the skin if he bat them quickly.

"Pfft, you're one to tal-! Ohhhh Steve…" Tony's words slurred right into a moan as his boyfriend's full lips wrapped around his cock, a strong wet tongue pressing against the shaft as Steve tried to memorize the taste.

Tony gasped and found himself arching into the simple, slow movements. He wasn't sure when he'd gotten so easy, or maybe Steve honestly turned him on this strongly. Whatever it was, he was really liking it. Fingers pulling on blonde hair, tangled in the mess and stroking through it eagerly as he whined and moaned for more, half the things that came out of his mouth were incoherent and mumbled but it didn't matter, what mattered was how he was saying it. Steve matched his pace with Tony's breathless pleas and learned to pay attention to how Tony's fingers worked their way through his hair, every little shift in his boyfriend's body language and voice were hints and if Steve was anything at all, he'd be considered a quick study.

All the while Steve's hands were massaging Tony's thighs or hips, one slipping down to fondle the parts of Tony he couldn't fit into his mouth. If he could pause ever few seconds to compliment Tony he would have but he didn't want to disrupt the flow of the action. Just hearing the brunette's increasingly intense outcries had Steve aching for a little touch of his own, his breath hitching slightly every few seconds; his hips had started to shift against the mattress to get a little friction against his swelling member.

Tony noticed the subtle sway of Steve's body and realized he was starting an attempt to pleasure himself, obviously still impatient with that kind of thing. He pulled Steve's head up by his hair and nearly regretted it, seeing those plump lips swollen and red from sucking and being stretched for a period of time. "Come here," Tony muttered breathily, tugging Steve up by the shirt, trying to yank it off.

Steve laughed and grabbed the bottom, pulling it up and over his head, revealing the expanse of pale skin and solid muscle that Tony hadn't realized he missed so much. "Better?"

Tony nodded in silent awe, "Fuck… Steve you are… just…"

Steve smiled at his boyfriend's lack of words, somehow that was more of a compliment than anything he could actually say. "Thank you," he decidedly cut Tony off and sealed the following silence by mashing their lips together again, that familiar desperation behind it. "So how did you want to do this?" he asked softly once he'd broken the kiss, a light blush on his cheeks that somehow still suited a full-grown man.

Tony smirked, "I had an idea actually, we both take top."

"But-"

"Shh, I have it figured out." Tony pressed a finger to Steve's lips, taking a moment to appreciate the feel of them, running along the rim of them and watching the way he could subtly open Steve's mouth just a little further. "Like a porn star…" He murmured, loving the big-eyed expression he received for it.

"What?" Steve asked, a bit more than confused.

"Nothing, just take your pants off, I gotta grab something." Tony squirmed out from under Steve, grazing the persistent bulge in his pants on purpose and loving the gasping moan he'd earned for it.

Steve watched Tony rummage through a drawer as he stripped down the rest of the way, enjoying the sight of his boyfriend's package dangling free. He laid down and pulled the pants from his hips as he kept his eyes on Tony, finding himself even more turned on just by seeing him roaming about naked. "Just beautiful," he muttered as Tony sprung up with something in his hand.

"Got it!" Tony exclaimed, turning around to see the entirely naked form of Steve Rogers on his bed. That flat stomach stretched out, the curve of his body on the sheets, legs parted and cock standing tall at attention. Part of Tony's brain shut down and for a moment he was worried that all of the blood in his body would attempt to move into his loins. "Fuck…"

"What is it?"

"You're just seriously hot," Tony admitted immediately.

Steve laughed, "Not that, I mean that, what you're holding."

"Oh, it's a cock ring." Tony eagerly moved to Steve's side and put it around the base of his dick without even asking, "It'll keep you from coming."

Steve gasped when those warm hands touched him, a pathetic little whimper escaping him as he squirmed for more. "Wh-why?"

"Because I'm fucking you first." Tony took his position immediately, spreading Steve's legs and propping himself between them, enjoying the view.

Blue eyes gazed up lustfully, understanding finally reaching them. "Okay," he agreed after a moment of thought, his heart pounding like a jackhammer. He was finally going to do it and he'd remember it this time. Excitement rolled through him and he shifted anxiously, eager to get into it. "Do it."

"You going to ask first?" Tony smirked, wondering what he could get away with.

"Please?" It came so easily to Steve to say the word but somehow it had a much different meaning here than usual, his face darkening after the last syllable left his lips.

"Please what?"

Steve looked desperate then, eyes big and needy, yet demanding at the same time. "Please fuck me, Tony."

"That's it," Tony said breathily, loving that he could get Steve to curse for him. He grabbed the lube he'd also fished out of his drawer, coating his fingers liberally. He reached down and found the sensitive hole he knew he'd soon be pounding. But this time he refused to get over excited, last time he'd hurt his partner and he didn't want to be part of that kind of thing this time around. His slick finger started rimming around the entrance gently, slowly working at it, getting the muscles more accustomed to his presence there.

Steve moaned and tensed, his hand briefly stroking himself though Tony swiftly smacked it aside, "Patience, gorgeous." Steve replied with a soft whine but obeyed, instead clutching the sheets around him and holding on as he tried not to thrust against the oh so tormenting finger.

Tony smiled, it was almost too much watching his ex and now new boyfriend squirm under his touch, those pretty blue eyes squeezed shut anxiously, lips parted delicately as he tried to hold back the soft cries that threatened to escape him. There were only so many times he could call Steve beautiful before it got a little repetitive. After a few more seconds he actually pushed inside, savouring the extended moan it earned him. He remembered from last time, as much as he didn't want to remember it, that Steve _loved_ penetration, it drove him wild and Tony wanted to see that again.

For Steve the process seemed new, the sensations were enough to set his body on fire and little shocks of pleasure to his brain. He pressed down on Tony's finger after he was more used to it, feeling it swish around inside him and barely graze past a bundle of nerves he wasn't quite aware of. Steve gasped and writhed on the bed while Tony gingerly inserted a second finger, stretching him further and forcing another wave of heat all the way up to his face and down to his toes. "Ohhh Tony…" he murmured, finding that the ring around base of his penis was really working, he wanted to come so badly already but it prevented his orgasm. He couldn't imagine how anyone could hold out but he figured that practice probably helped with that.

Tony listened carefully to the sounds coming from his boyfriend, Steve's head pinned down into the bed and his back arched, gasps and utterances quickly getting more intense, more desperate and needy. Tony smiled and scissored his fingers carefully, realizing just how impatient Steve was getting as the larger man started to push down on him. "Hey, patience-"

"No," Steve gasped, looking down at him in a way that was meant to be serious though the needy, blown-out look in his eyes said everything else. "I want it _now_."

Tony smiled and nodded, realizing now that Steve hadn't gotten a lot of practice in and he was tormenting the poor guy. "If you're sure."

"_Please_" Steve dropped his head back again, his chest heaving, sweat beading along his forehead and neck, "Fuck me, Tony."

The brunette quickly coated himself with the lubricant, not wanting to pass this up. He pressed his tip to Steve's entrance, slowly pushing forward, the tip already feeling fantastic past the ring of loosened muscle. He was taking it slow though Steve would have none of it, the blonde pushing down on him again and crying out ecstatically when he was suddenly filled up. Tony hunched forward with a gasp, "Shit you're tight," he moaned and adjusted his hips, feeling every clenching muscle Steve had, loving the feeling already and it had only been a few seconds.

"Tony," Steve drawled, his voice exasperated and strained. Blue eyes connected with brown and a sense of passion swelled within him, he'd always loved those pretty brown eyes, he'd always admired Tony to be an ingenuitive, hard-working guy (who was, admittedly, horrible in a group effort). He'd liked Tony, he'd almost fallen for Tony and then, after all those years, he did fall in love with the man. And now everything seemed perfect, Tony moving slowly inside him as they both got used to the new connection, their hearts beating rapidly and loudly enough that they both thought they could hear the others'. Steve smiled and relaxed back, legs spread wide for Tony, propped up against the other man's sides. Everything was perfect.

Tony picked up the pace then, shifting his hips and finding Steve's prostate after a few quick thrusts. The blonde nearly shrieked with pleasure at the sudden assault, his entire body twitching and reacting to Tony's movements, each time he struck home Steve made the same sound, each time Steve muttered something encouraging, something dirty, or just babbled as he frantically tried to touch himself. Tony refused to let him.

Luckily for Steve his pathetic whimpering and loud outbursts were hot enough that Tony couldn't hold out for much longer, shuddering as his orgasm hit him full force, tearing a stream of curses and groans from his throat. Steve clenched a little tighter to help him along which did enough to have Tony crying out louder, desperately thrusting into his lover with all his might to get that much needed release.

Tony was fairly spent after that, dropping onto Steve, not missing the very hard and throbbing cock that was clearly leaking already. "Steve," Tony whispered playfully, reaching down and trailing a finger up the shaft, "You're so turned on it looks painful."

Steve's shuddered gasp was the only reply at first, at least before the blonde reached around behind Tony and started to feel for his entrance with a lubed finger, finding that Tony had done part of it already while he had prepped Steve. "You're too good at multi-tasking," he huffed, already sticking two fingers inside.

Tony flinched and inhaled sharply, a moan rumbling in his throat as he dared lean back onto Steve's eager fingers. "I figured you'd be really close to the edge and waiting to prep me might be agitating for you."

"I'd take the time to do it, you know that." Steve said softly as he managed a third, knowing he'd need to prep Tony that far and possibly even further with a fourth, "Like I'm doing now."

Another light gasp followed by an excited mewl and several other happy noises escaped Tony as he started to move along with Steve's fingers. "I know," he leaned down and pressed a kiss to his lover's lips, knowing and impatiently anticipating the next few moments as the first time that Steve would take him, the first time that he'd feel all of that huge, engorged cock inside him. It was a moment to remember, at least until the next time. While Steve was busy prepping Tony, the genius coated his hands in lube and started applying it to Steve's dick, another slew of whimpers and pleas his prize. "Almost there, Steve." He promised with a smile.

Steve nodded and though his hips bucked up for more contact he tried to hold himself back, making sure to do a good job getting Tony ready. He was a big guy and fairly strong, he could really hurt his partner if he wasn't careful. "Are you good?" Steve asked after a few more moments, his eyes showing every little hope he held that the answer was yes.

Tony debated the idea of saying no, but decided against it, also deciding to leave the cock ring on his boyfriend. Steve was way past the point of coming immediately as soon as he was given the chance; Steve could still ejaculate with the ring on however it took a lot longer to get to that point and Tony knew that finally coming would be even more intense and couldn't wait to see it happen. "Good to go, Cap."

Steve smiled at the old nickname; it was nice to hear it after so long. He grabbed Tony's hips and lifted him up, positioning him with a little help from the brunette. Tony seemed pleased as he lowered himself down onto the eagerly awaiting erection. The heat and pressure from being inside someone was incredible and Steve couldn't believe he'd waited this long to try it. Of course, by then he was already overly sensitized and every little movement felt like it might topple him over the edge, though he still didn't. He was impressed by the ring, he hadn't realized it'd hold him off this long.

Of course Tony wouldn't let him ride this out without assistance, he'd pulled something else out of the drawer earlier that Steve hadn't noticed. He'd hidden it in the sheets for a little bit, anticipating this moment. As Steve adjusted himself inside Tony, the genius fished out a dildo and quickly lubricated it; noting Steve's confused face, "What are you-" His concerns were quickly cut short as Tony slipped it inside his lover. Steve thrust up very suddenly, getting a surprised moan from Tony, the smaller man starting to move, his finger slipping over a button on the dildo to turn on its vibrate function. That was enough incentive to have Steve's hips moving faster, Tony bounced on top of him, slamming himself down again to help Steve along, he could feel every little pulse in the blonde's stressed member, could feel and hear that Steve was close.

When Steve finally hit his climax the dildo inside him was vibrating against his prostate, Tony had wriggled it enough to position it properly, and Tony himself had figured out the rhythm in which it was best to clench and unclench his muscles. Steve cried out louder than he ever though he could, hands flailing and grabbing hold of whatever he could reach, often pressing into Tony's hips like a lifeline.

Tony smiled, he was already fairly tired but it was amazing to see Steve come undone, to watch those muscles tense and flex, a sheen of sweat all across that gorgeous body only adding to his appeal. Steve collapsed back into the bed, still whining loudly as he tried to wriggle free of the dildo's relentless vibrations. Tony mercifully removed it, though not before he pushed it in and out a few times to get the post orgasm whimpers out.

"You good?" Tony reached over and brushed the mess of blonde hair away from Steve's face, smiling at the exhaustion that lingered there.

"Oh yeah…" Steve gasped and lifted one eyelid half way to look up, his smile brightening as Tony slipped up and off of him, dropping down on top of him and nestling in quietly. Steve pulled Tony closer against him, sleep creeping in. From where they had been when they left off at the airport in senior year and where they finally were now, Steve saw it like night and day. Their intimacy had grown, _they_ had grown; he wouldn't spend forever over-analyzing every little thing, he wouldn't over sensitize himself to every stupid thing, he wasn't a kid anymore. He could not only fight harder to keep their relationship alive, he could also take care of Tony now. It felt good to finally be at that stage in his life.

"I love you, Tony."

"I love you too, Steve." Tony's soft response was the last thing Steve heard before dozing off.

* * *

"You'll do fine," Tony assured Steve for the twentieth time that morning, while adjusting his partner's suit and tie. Tony slapped Steve's hand away when he moved to loosen the tie –_again_. "Would you just leave it alone already? I get that you're nervous, and you don't always wear a suit, but that doesn't mean that you can pick at it. Just stick to the script, and follow the lawyer's lead."

Steve nodded anxiously, "I know, I know. I just… I'm so nervous, Tony." He fidgeted a little but stopped in case Tony wanted to slap him again. But despite his nerves and fears he stepped forward as was expected of him. He was doing this for Tony, he just had to keep telling himself that and it'd go over just fine. People weren't seeing him as a murderous monster that killed in cold blood; he could live with himself regardless of the outcome. "I love you," he whispered with that anxious smile.

Tony smiled broadly, "I love you too." He reached up and took Steve's jaw in his hand, guiding him into a kiss. "Now get out there."

The proceedings continued flawlessly. Tony's legal team had put together a crack defense, a situation of duress in the face of a stronger opponent and a life-threatening scenario, while originally unarmed. Attention was brought to Steve's flawless criminal record, and outstanding dedication to the company, as well as having no prior communications or contacts with Obadiah. At worst, the crime was manslaughter, and not premeditated.

The evidence compiled by the prosecution was circumstantial at best, and since Tony was their only witness, who refused to comment in court, they had a weak platform from the start. The scene had been first attended to by Stark Industries' security team, who did more damage than good when it came to preserving evidence. And the security footage for the area was oddly missing.

The jury was so good, it almost seemed rigged, as several of the attending community faces were well aware of Steve's volunteer efforts, though a few were dismissed in the selection process that had actually known him through his efforts. In the end, the jury found the evidence weak, and could not prove beyond a reasonable doubt that Steve could possibly murder in cold blood.

Tony could've laughed at how pathetic it all was –how there was a man dead, but no conviction could be reached based on the technicalities of due process. It was good enough, because really Steve didn't kill anyone. He met Steve at the rear of the courtroom, before they had to face the blazing assault of the press just behind the doors.

"You did great, I hardly even recognized your stoic face," Tony smiled and kissed Steve quickly on the cheek.

Steve visibly relaxed and returned the kiss with an air of relief, "You have no idea how badly I want to sit down right now." He knew it sounded silly because he'd been sitting through most of the hearing but he'd been so tense he might as well have been doing a thousand squats as he sat there. "So… I'm free, right? Travel time?" He smirked widely, hand touching the doors in a way that allowed him to almost feel the tension beyond it, cameras ready like guns on a firing squad.

"I've made all the preparations," Tony replied happily, "We're good to go on Monday morning." Tony kissed Steve again. "There's nothing to worry about."

"Can't wait," Steve smiled down at him warmly, "Haven't travelled since high school."

With that, Steve slipped an arm around Tony's lower back and shoved the doors open, the area beyond lighting up brightly as cameras flashed and Steve realized then that he'd have to get used to the fast lane lifestyle. His hand tightened around Tony's waist, "Excited yet?"

"You have no idea."

* * *

**Zafona's Notes:**

******And that's a wrap! Hoping everyone liked it and to hear from you all again (or at all for some of you lol). Matsu and I love feedback so even if you read this a year after it's posted please review/comment whatever it's called at that time, I'd still love to get it XD**

**Thanks again to everyone, keep watching for our stuff if you enjoyed this. **


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